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25 CtS. 



LOVELL'S 

WESmiNSTER 



Entered at the Post Office^ New York^ as second class matter. 


THE HAVOC 

% 

OF A SMILE 

BY 

L B. WALFORD. 


NEW YORK 

JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY 

150 Worth St., cor. Mission Rlace 


ISSUED WEEKLY. 


ANNUAL SUBSCRIPTION, $ 12 . 00 . 


AUGUST 18, 1890, 


BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT WITH THE AUTHORS. 


LOVELL’S 

Westminster Series. 

1. Hek Last Theow. By the Duchess - - 25 

2. The Moment After. By Kobert Buchanan - 25 

3. The Case of Gen’l Ople and Lady Camper. By 

George Meredith _ . - . . 25 

4. The Story of the Gadsbys. By Rudyard 

Kipling - - . - - - 25 

5. The Doctor’s Secret. By Rita . - . 25 

6. The Tale of Chloe. By George Meredith - 25 

7. The Old Courtyard. By Katherine S. Macquoid 25 

8. Frances Kane’s Fortune. By L. T. Meade - 25 

9. Passion the Plaything. By R. Murray Gilchrist, 25 

10. City and Suburban. By Florence Warden - 25 

11. A Romance of the Wire. By M. Betham- 

Edwards 25 

12. The Havoc of a Smile. By L. B. Waif or d - 25 


Any of the above sent postpaid, on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, 


150 WORTH STREET, NEW YORK. 


THE HAVOC OP A SMILE 


I 




■^ Axy '/^ 

JAz^ a ^ yz,(^. 




Z'*^ ^Zf‘ 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE 


/ 


BY 


L. B, WALFORD 




AUTHORIZED EDITION 



NEW YORK : 

JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY 
142-150 Worth Street 






Copyright, 1890, 

By JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY 


Authorized Edition 


THE HAVOC OE A SMILE. 


CHAPTER 1. 

‘‘ I AM ready to begin to-morrow/^ said Gregory. 

People who have never seen our great metropolis 
in all the early brilliance of the ‘ merrie month o’ May’; 
have something yet to look upon in life. There is 
a sparkle and energy, a freshness and vigor of exist- 
ence, about those first days of the London season, 
which is not confined to any grade or sphere; Small, 
narrow streets, and back alleys put forth their best, 
and deck themselves according to their lights, as sys- 
tematically as do the noble squares and parks ; the 
little pots upon the window-sills of mews and stable- 
yard are as sure a sign of galahood as are the banks 
of bloom in broad balcony and verandah ; while over 
all, the glorious May sunshine impartially pours forth 
its beams, lightening the hearts of the aged and sor- 
rowful, as well as causing the blood to bound in the 
veins of the young and happy. 

It is scarcely possible to walk abroad, we will say be- 


8 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


tween the hours of twelve and two, on a bright spring 
morning, to pass along the well-watered thoroughfares 
now eclioing to the ceaseless roll of light equipages 
vying with each other in elegance, — to stroll from point 
to point, noting that all is new, spotless, immaculate, 
— and that everything which can delight the eye and 
tempt the fancy is spread out in window and doorway, 
— to turn presentl}" into the flowering Park and Row, 
where beneath the bursting green of myriad buds, a 
glittering, rainbow-like assemblage stretches far away 
on either side, where horse and rider, alike faultless, 
move hither and thither over the cool, soft, wet earth, 
and where the strains of gay music from the soldiers’ 
quarters hard by add to the pleasures of the scene, 
— it is, we say, not in human nature not to be exhil- 
arated by the spectacle of life under such an aspect. 

May, some will say, beautifies every place ; sun- 
light glorifies every object. The dullest spot on earth 
becomes transformed by these two influences com- 
bined. 

Nay, but there is a joyous response, an electric 
effort on the part of humankind, when gathered 
together for this great tryst of the year, which scores 
two-thirds of its success. 

It is not only that there is the gloss of a radiant 
atmosphere to transfigure and beguile, it is that the 
earth and all that thereon is, strains every nerve to 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


9 


meet halfway the kindly beneficence of the heavens ; 
that one urges forward another, that this current meets 
that current; that forces act and re-act; that religion, 
statecraft, science, art, literature, commerce, are all 
in the race for eminence, and are no less eager to be 
in the front rank than are fashion, folly, and frivol- 
ity. The vast city becomes for the nonce the centre 
of all things. To be there is the desire of all hearts. 
To achieve distinction therein is the aim of ambition 
under every guise. 

In these days it may accordingly seem strange to 
be told that there are actually a considerable number 
of young, aspiring, energetic Englishmen who have 
never, or hardly ever beheld their own capital at the 
precise moment above alluded to. We do not of 
course refer to yokels, nor even to country bumpkins, 
as to whom there would be nothing at all peculiar in 
the fact. We refer to youngsters of superior rank, 
youths whose “ people ’’ are as sure to be met with 
in Piccadily or Bond Street on a May morning as are 
any of the regular inhabitants, and who in their turn 
will be seen with equal certainty standing in the 
doorways of their clubs in St. James’ and Pall Mall, 
by-and-by. There are many hundreds of these who 
will tell you that they have never yet been in Town 
during the early part of the season. 

Gregory Pomfret never bad. 


10 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


No one would believe him when he first said so ; his 
mother and sisters roundly asserted that he was talk- 
ing nonsense ; while even his father cried, “ God bless 
my soul,” and laughed aloud. 

Gregory, however, was not to be laughed out of 
his knowledge of the fact. He was a slow thinker 
who seldom made mistakes, and he knew that he was 
not making a mistake now. 

It was perfectly true, as his mother said, that for 
years he had been within a couple of hours of London 
by rail, during the time to which he was referring, — 
but it was true also, that he had never taken advan- 
tage of being so. He had been at Eton, and at Ox- 
ford ; but he had on no single occasion run up to 
Town from either school or university, until the 
Easter term had come to an end. It had been well 
on in June before he had got away from the latter, it 
had been the end of July ere he had quitted the 
former. 

Upon hearing which Mrs. Pomfret, who could 
never remember a date, and who had merely told her 
son he was talking nonsense because it seemed to her 
incomprehensible that anyone should be “ out of 
Town ” in May, not that Gregory should, — was quite 
surprised, and even, for the moment, interested. 

“ You will enjoy yourself,” she prognosticated, as 
soon as the persistence of the only person present who 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE, 


11 


thought the matter worth persisting in, had brought at 
length its due reward of conviction, “ you will be 
amused. But how odd it seems. Why, I should 
hardly know myself out of Berkeley Square in May ; 
and as for the girls, they are just as fond of the 
London season as I. And to think that all these 
years ” 

“ Come, come ; not so many years, neither,” inter- 
posed her husband, somewhat gruffly. “You did 
not see much of Berkeley Square, nor yet of the Lon- 
don season when we lived down yonder in Blooms- 
bury. Gregory was quite right not to waste his time 
and his money rattling up to London, when he knew 
it was stiff work for me to pay his schools bills as it 
was, — why, bless my soul ! the boy is only twenty 
years old now ; would you have him hlasS already ? I 
daresay when he got off for a day, or half a day, he 
went for a row, or a ride, eh, Greg ? A thousand 
times more sensible that, than fooling about London. 
Nothing to interest any boy ” 

“ Oh, I say, sir ! ” Gregory looked remonstrances. 

“ I say nothing to interest any healthy-minded 
boy,” reiterated Mr. Pomfret, with emphasis, “ noth- 
ing rational, nor — nor — nor manly. Nothing but 
petticoats,” in accents of disgust. 

“ Yet you have brought me to the petticoats after 
all, sir.” 


12 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


“ I have brought you to your worlc.^ sir,” the elder 
speaker frowned. “Had the work not needed you, I 
should have let you stop on at the university till 
your three years were out, — but you know how it 
is. I am not fit to go on, as I have been going ; 
if I attempted it, I might fall down dead any 
day-” 

“ My dear ! ” It was Mrs. Pomfret who here inter- 
posed. 

“ Aye, my dear ; but it’s true,” persisted her 
husband, though more composedly. “ Clark says so 
— or at least if he did not absolutely say the words, 
he inferred them. ‘ Have you a son who could take 
your place?’ he inquired; and when I mentioned 
Gregory, he said at once ‘then send for him.’ I 
daresay Gregory thinks it hard to be taken away 
from his easy life ” 

“ That’s not fair.” 

Perhaps there was some excuse to be made for the 
blunt interruption. Gregory had obe^md his father’s 
summons on the instant, — to confess the whole truth, 
he had not even obeyed unwillingly ; since a junior 
partnership in a fine old firm, and a taste of London 
life with the bloom on, was not to be despised by any 
one, and had in fact a distinct allurement for our 
young Oxonian, — wherefore he was conscious of 
having upon no score merited the querulous insinua- 


TEE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


13 


tion which took for granted reluctance and com- 
plaint. 

“ I never said I was sorry to come,” he now added 
flushing up. 

“ If you did not sa^ so ” 

“ I did not even feel so, I — Oxford is not all beans,” 
blurted out the young fellow, frankly. “ It was all 
very well for a time, but I have had about enough of 
it. It is beastly narrow. You don’t know what to 
do with yourself ” 

“ Bless my soul ! ” ejaculated Mr. Pomfret for the 
third time. “Not know what to do with yourself?” 
he demanded in amazement. “ Why, what on earth 
do you want to do with yourself ? You are not cut 
out for study, you tell me. All right. I am no great 
hand at study myself. But can’t you ride — or row — 
or play cricket, and football — or — or — do what other 
young fellows do ? Can’t you go in for those sort 
of things, eh? ” 

“ I am not very good at them, father.” 

“ Not at any of them ? ” 

“ No ; not at any of tliem.” 

“ Humph ! ” said Mr. Pomfret. 

“ I don’t say that I cannot just play cricket, and I 
suppose I can take an oar, and go along on a horse,” 
pursued Gregory, after a minute’s pause, during 
which he had been under scrutiny, and had been con- 


14 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


scious of being so, “ but I don’t do any of these things 
well., and it is no use pretending that I do.” 

“ I thought all boys of your age were cricketers, 
and the rest of it. Whenever I speak to any of my 
friends, they begin about the big ‘ I’uns ’ of one son, 
or the ‘ splendid victories ’ of another, — what — what 
are you smiling at ? ” demanded Mr. Pomfret, 
sharply. 

“ Because I could gammon you about big runs and 
splendid victories if you choose, father, but I fancied 
you would like the truth best. The half you hear is 
rot. A few do go in for these sort of things, and a 
few more do it because the others do it, but the most 
of us ” Gregory paused. 

“ Well ? ” cried his father. Well ? ” 

“ Do nothing,” concluded Gregory, blandly. 
“We don’t really. We like doing nothing, and we 
hate doing anything. The days fool away somehow. 
I think perhaps I am as well up here, you know,” 
and he shot a confidential glance. 

“ Not if you are going to let the days ‘fool away 
somehow,’ my young man. Business is business, 
and you have got to stick to it. Master Gregory 
Pomfret. You will have to work ” 

“ Oh, but I mean to work, sir.” 

“You do I hope so,” significantly. 

“ I do, really. I like the thought of it, I want 


the havoc of a smile. 15 

to be at something, if I only knew what. And — and 
— I shall be glad to be a help to you, father.” The 
two were alone, the mother and sisters having slip- 
ped away from the room, as soon as it became appar- 
ent that chit-chat was not to be the order of the day. 
There was something in the tone of the last words, 
which made the elder speaker gulp down unspoken 
the beginning of another sentence. 

“ If I am to be of any use to you now, and to take 
your place presently — that is, when you wish to give 

up working, and — and enjoy yourself, ” proceeded 

Gregory, to whom his precise position in the firm 
had been definitely explained from the outset, “ the 
sooner I get into training the better. I see no good 
to be got by losing a day.” (His mother had sug- 
gested a weak’s breathing space). “ I am ready to 
begin to-morrow,” said Gregory, rising to his feet as 
he spoke, and looking full in his father’s face. 

The gaze was steadily returned. For a whole 
minute neither uttered another word. Then, “ By 

G ! he’s got it in him ! ” suddenly exclaimed Mr. 

Pomfret, with a rush of emotion akin to nothing his 

breast had ever known before. “ By — by G ! 

the boy has got the real thing in him ! ” 


16 


THE HA VOC OF A SMILE, 


CHAPTER II. 

THE BEGINNING. 

Fkom that day forth Gregory’s father began to 
conceive a respect for his son. 

Hitherto, it must be confessed, he had scarcely done 
this ; indeed he had owned to his inner conscious- 
ness, — not indeed that he had been exactly disap- 
pointed and chagrined — that would have been too 
much to expect, — but that he had been surprised by 
that portion of himself which was vested in his heir. 
It had seemed to him that the investment had hard- 
ly turned out as he might have expected it would. 
A quiet, simple, unobtrusive boy ought not to have 
sprung from such a majestic, full-voiced, loud-toned, 
awe-inspiring, paternal source. 

Neither at school nor at college had Gregory 
been the big, swaggering, rich man’s son. He had 
slipped modestly along towards manhood, instead 
of dashing at it full-tilt, as his father would have 
had him do. 

Neither had he obtained scholarly renown. In- 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


17 


stead, he had done simply nothing, and had liked 
doing nothing. 

Then had come the recall home. 

• Then the crisis ; and finally, the immense astonish- 
ment and unutterable revolution of all former ideas 
concerning the lad, which had found vent in the 
exclamation wherewith we closed the last chapter. 

Nor was Mr. Pomfret less well-satisfied, as time 
went by. For the first week or two after the start 
had been made, indeed, he was inclined to be restless 
and anxious : it could be seen that he was watching 
everything and everybody ; but as no evil symptoms 
of any kind made their appearance, as there was 
neither blundering nor stupidity on the part of the 
young partner nor fault-finding on that of his seniors, 
the lines upon the parent’s brow one by one relaxed, 
his step grew more and more cheerful, and his tone 
more confident ; until at length, it was patent to all 
that the Rubicon, as regarded Gregory Pomfret, had 
been successfully passed, and that in the opinion of 
one and all, he was going to “ do.” 

We have now done with Gregory in the light of a 
business man. Let it be understood that he took to 
his new life heartily, and was by no means disposed to 
be a cypher in the niche which he so obviously fitted, 
and we will turn to the other side of the picture, that 

side with which alone we shall in future have occasion 
2 


18 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


to concern ourselves, namely, the life of our young 
workman in liis own home. 

How did he fare there ? How did it suit him, and 
how did he suit it? We shall see. 

It was not exactly an idle home. Perhaps Mrs. 
Pomfret and her daughters worked, in their own way, 
as hard as Gregory did in his, — but their aims were 
different. These aims had always been understood 
to be different. From early years, indeed from the 
very beginning of her married life, Mr. Pomfret’s wife 
had taken it for granted that she and her husband 
had two distinct missions to perform : he was to 
provide money, she to spend it, — and to do her justice, 
she faithfully carried out her part of the bargain. 

She had been humbly born ; she had married a rich 
man; she now aspired to being a woman of fashion. 
Let this description suffice. 

Nor do Gregory’s sisters deserve a more minute 
one at our hands. They were lively, volatile, and 
pleasure-loving: their one idea was society ; and they 
held that every other consideration should give way 
where it was concerned. 

As a boy, Greg had been fond of his sisters, who 
had petted and pampered him, the youngest of the 
family, and the only son and brother of the house. 
They had told each other that the little fellow was 
presentable in appearance, that his manners were 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


19 


gentle and winning, and that his Eton jacket and 
large white collar looked well on the back seat of 
the carriage. 

Furthermore, Greg, who was by nature reserved 
and silent, had proved an excellent listener to the 
two chattering girls. He would sit on a stool, turn- 
ing his head from one to the other as they talked, with 
a solemn attention which was vastly agreeable, as 
well as proper at his years. And, to conclude, it was 
convenient to have a third person to take up and be 
friends with, when, as not unfrequentlj^ happened. 
Miss Winifred fell out with Miss Caroline, and the 
two chose not to be “ on terms ” with each other, as 
they phrased it, for the remainder of the day. 

Now little Gregory did not know what this mys- 
terious being “ on terms ” meant,— or, we should rather 
say, he did not know what it felt like. He was 
shrewd enough to perceive that every now and then 
there would be an ominous silence round the dinner 
table, or that one or another of the females present, 
would toss her head and flounce out of the room if 
certain subjects were alluded to, or inquired into — but 
he would simply wonder in his quiet soul what good 
the toss or the flounce did, and steal out of sight till 
the atmosphere was serene once more. 

That was what Greg was as a boy. 

As a young man he naturally developed. He 


20 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


would now and again argue a point, or dispute an 
axiom. He took a little more part in general con- 
versation, and he did not shun visitors. Finally, lie 
had arrived at the stage of being able to stand up for 
himself, and to cry out that a certain accusation was 
“Not fair? ” at the time we first beheld him. 

To sum up, Gregory Pomfret was one of those 
very quiet people who have an immense fund of 
reserve force, a considerable share of innate refine- 
ment, and an obstinacy which, once roused, no human 
power could avail against. 

The vulgar clatter of the noisy, assumptions family 
circle, forever excited and eager about trifles, forever 
discussing the attainable, or lamenting the unattain- 
able, fell upon the ears of one person of the house, 
only as the sound of a distant torrent, whose uproar 
has ceased to be heard by reason of its continuity, 
and which can only command even the attention of 
annoyance, by an unusual outburst. 

Gregory had, you see, been acclimatized to it from 
infancy. He supposed that all women talked so, and 
acted so. He supposed that his mother was like 
other men’s mothers, and his sisters like other men’s 
sisters. 

Wynnie and Linny had been rather particularly 
friendly during his latter terms at Oxford. They 
had reckoned on Gregory as an escort for riding 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


21 


parties and boating parties. He had been asked to 
bring his friends, and his friends liad been civilly 
treated. Mrs. Pomfret had been hospitable, the 
Misses Pomfret amicable, and Mr. Pomfret out of 
the way. 

That was all that had ever been expected of Greg- 
ory’s papa on the social stage. It will accordingly 
readily be understood, that the family life into which 
our young Oxonian, was inducted — being as a matter- 
of-fact the only family life about which he knew 
anything (for he had but few relations or friends, 
and had never cared about paying visits), was pre- 
ssumed by him to be a natural and reasonable one. 
He supposed that his people were like other people. 
He took it for granted that they led the ordinary 
existence of ordinary families, and if in his heart he 
sometimes sighed for something different, he gave no 
outward sign of doing so. 

He came and went. Every morning saw him start 
punctually, every evening as punctually saw him 
return. 

Furnished with pass-key, he would let himself in, 
through the massive doorway, would put down his 
hat and stick, and look into room after room. 

Why did he thus look ? I cannot but think that if 
the women who were either out, driving about from 
tea-table to tea table, or who were bedecking them- 


22 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


selves in an upper apartment • had seen that wistful 
look round, they would sometimes have contrived to 
let one or other of them be there to meet it. 

They never did. Gradually Gregory learned not 
to expect they would. 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


23 


CHAPTER III. 

MARK LANE AND BERKELEY SQUARE. 

“ Well, my boy, how are you getting on ? ” 

“ Oh, first-rate,” said Gregory. 

That was his one answer: he could never think of 
anything else to say. 

“ Like your work, eh ? ” the father would proceed. 

“ Oh, first-rate,” the son would again reply. 

Now and then, however, he would open his mouth, 
as if to add a little more, and Mr. Pomfret would 
have listened had he done so; nay, he would have 
been glad to listen, understanding more of the 
routine which went on within the walls of the build- 
inor in Mark Lane than of the fevered existence 
pursued in Berkeley Square, but this was not to be 
permitted. Gregory had never wished to talk in the 
general circle, why should he begin to wish to talk 
now ? He had never, the girls protested, cared to 
tell them, or any one, about his Eton days, or his 
Oxford days, about things and people which would 


24 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


have been really of interest ; and it was ridiculous to 
suppose that now, now when he was down all day 
long in a musty old counting-house, he could have 
anything to talk about. 

No, no; let him forget Mark Lane and all it con- 
tained, as soon as he recrossed the threshold of his 
home, and let them have the ear of the house ; let 
Wynnie tell her tale of the charity concert at which 
the duchess had been so ingratiating, and Linny hers 
of the fancy bazaar, which had brought her into 
contact with the lady of yet higher degree ; let their 
mother ponder and cogitate aloud upon her chances 
of obtaining this social distinction, and escaping that 
social contamination, but let Gregory be silent as he 
had ever been. 

As for their father, however swelling might be his 
shirt-front and rolling his periods when in Mark 
Lane, he had long learned to know his place in 
Berkeley Square ; and it was indeed a proof of his 
spirit having been strangely stirred within him, that he 
had asserted himself for once as he had done, on the 
occasion when the arrival of his son, and the altera- 
tion in his own mode of life, had made some sort of 
formal declaration of the situation necessary in his 
eyes. 

After a while Gregory tacitly accepted a like posi- 
tion in the home circle, neither protesting outwardly, 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


25 


nor rebelling in his heart. As we have said, he knew 
no better. 

It did not dawn upon him that it was hard to sit 
down alone, day after day, to his morning coffee, and 
his ill-served breakfast. He did not even grumble 
about the latter’s being ill-served. He had a wonder- 
ful patience at this period of his life. 

Not all the inattention of a lax, disorderly house- 
hold, over whom there was no proper head, and who 
were forever brawling and rioting among themselves, 
provoked the person who suffered from it the most, 
to remonstrance or rebuke. He had an intense dis- 
like to meddling with anybody — especially servants. 
He was shy of them, and shrank from them. If 
things were wrong, if his clothes were not properly 
kept, or his comforts neglected, he simply endured; 
one could not even be certain whether he observed. 

But such philosophy hardly answers in this slip- 
shod world. 

There are, it is to be feared, few who will go about 
their daily duties without being the better for a 
touch of the spur, or a hand upon the rein. 

Had the young man stormed and sworn, had he 
merely rung an occasional bell, or instituted a polite 
inquiry, matters had been different ; as it was, he 
was so little accounted of, that — but let us discover 
all about it for ourselves. 


26 


THE HA VOC OF A SMILE. 


It was a warm still evening in June, very nearly 
two months after the commencement of the new era 
in Gregory’s life. 

He had had something of a worrying day, perhaps 
the first really worrying day he had gone through in 
Mark Lane. Things had gone cross, and he had 
himself been conscious of inefficiency and forgetful- 
ness. He had felt stupid and languid. As a matter 
of fact the change from' a breezy, easy, out-of-door 
existence to an active and yet to a certain extent 
sedentaiy, one, was begiiming to tell upon him. 

Moreover, he was lonely. He missed the compan- 
ionship of innumerable other joyous young idlers ; 
the interchange of news and chit-chat ; the long 
talks and smokes with which the summer days had 
been wont to close with him, hitherto. 

The other youngsters of his age in the count- 
ing house were not his equals. He had hoped 
that at least one or two of them might be so, 
but as it happened, there was not a single clerk in 
the house with whom he could, even at a pinch, care 
to consort. It was this which, more than anything 
else, had erst led Gregory to search the empty rooms 
so eagerly on his nightly return home ; it was the 
entire absence of sympathetic intercourse with any 
living soul, — and that just at a time when sympathetic 
intercourse was most needed, — which had at length 


THE HA VOC OF A SMILE. 


27 


aroused desires and affections previously dormant. 
So long as he had had friends in plenty, he had not 
needed, and perhaps to confess the whole truth, had 
not particularly cared about motherly and sisterly 
companionship ; but, all else having failed, he felt — 
he did not know how he felt. 

It was a new thing to be so listless and passion- 
less. He seemed to care about nothing, to know 
about nothing. He had no part nor lot in any of the 
affairs of the daj^ If, by chance, allusions to them 
were made in his presence, he had no idea of what was 
meant. He never saw anybody before he left the 
house in the morning ; he only encountered them on 
the stairs, or waiting for the carriage in the boudoir, 
on his return home. 

Now and again his mother would have a dinner- 
party, on which occasion he would be enjoined to be 
dressed and down by eight o’clock ; and, not know- 
ing any one who was expected, and feeling miser- 
ably certain that he should never have the courage 
to enter the great saloon after the guests had assem- 
bled therein, he would have half an hour of unutter- 
able agony, getting into his now seldom used dress 
clothes, and tying his unaccustomed tie, lest he 
should be unable to get down before the people had 
begun to come. 

That formidable barrier surmounted, however. 


28 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


Gregory would rather enjoy the dinner-party. It 
was a change from his solitary meal in the library, 
and his book afterwards. It was certainly preferable 
to be seated at a gayly set out table, sparkling with 
silver and glass, sweet with flowers, talking to a 
nice girl — (he usually thought his partner a nice 
girl) — and partaking of good things with a better ap- 
petite than he could ever muster for a tepid cutlet or 
fricassee — it was decidedly better to be doing this, 
than to be doing as he now nearly ahvays did, at that 
hour, namely dining alone and dining badly. 

It may be asked, how it was that the young man 
did not accompanj^ the rest of tlie family to their 
nightly festivities ? He was but seldom asked to do so. 
People did not know about him, and Mrs. Pom- 
felt was not anxious that they should know. She 
had been vexed by Gregory’s recall from the 
university, and vexed for two reasons. Firstly be- 
cause the words “ My son at Oxford ” had always 
been a choice phrase in her mouth ; and, secondly, 
because to have had to substitute, ‘‘ My son in Mark 
Lane ” was impossible. One of the aims of her life 
was to drop Mark Lane ; and although she could not 
exactly drop Mr. Pomfret also, she could detach 
him. 

It was to be supposed that no one, outside the 
immediate Pomfret circle, had the slightest idea 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


29 


how the Pomfret money was come by, or that if 
they had, at all events it was presumed to have 
travelled by a circuitous route, and in days gone by. 

Gregory’s mother was thus, we see, a stupid as 
well as vulgar woman. 

But poor Gregory never knew why it was that his 
name was so seldom written upon the cards of invita- 
tion which now began to flock in ; never had the 
least suspicion that he would assuredly have been 
asked to this or that pleasant gathering, if tlie giver 
thereof had been in any degree aware of his exist- 
ence. 

‘‘Yes, yes; he is best out of it all;” even his 
father would agree, when it was casually suggested 
that it would be of no use obtaining for the son or 
brother a more than usuall}^ tempting invitation ; 
“ let him stick to his work — stick to his work,” he 
would proceed, shaking his head shrewdly. “ What- 
ever you do, don’t unsettle the boy. Do what you 
like yourselves, but leave Greg to me and the count- 
ing house. He’ll be the better for it by and by — 
tlie whole of you will be the better for it. If he 
were fooling away his time now” — and here the 
speaker would proceed to give such very cogent 
reasons why the time should, not be fooled away, 
even by an occasional dance or dinner, that the three 
females would be quite easy in their minds upon the 


30 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


point ; cogitating that, as Greg would certainly be no 
good to them, and as their father thought society 
would do no good to him, it was but logical to 
conclude that he had neither turn nor inclination 
for it. 

“ He is not half so good-looking as he was, either,” 
summed up the elder sister, Wynnie, upon the June 
evening above referred to. “ He has lost his color 
so.” 

“ And he will forget to have his hair cut,” inter- 
posed her sister. “ Why cannot he have his hair 
cut, and — and be properly shaved, like other boys of 
his age ? I told him just now that he was quite an 
object.” 

“Just now? Is Greg come in then?” inquired 
their mother. “ He has not been here.” The party 
were assembled in the drawing-room before dinner. 
For a wonder it chanced that they were none of 
them going out that evening. 

“ He was making straight for the library,” said 
Linny, laughing, “ Greg makes for his burrow as if 
he were a rabbit. I told him we were here to-night, 
and he actually stared at me. What a funny boy 
he is I ” 

“ To be sure we . hardly ever are at home,” re- 
joined her sister, with some complacency. 

“ In the season it is not to be expected. And I 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


31 


dare say Gregory likes as well as not to be quiet 
when he conies home tired. He will hardly thank 
us for interrupting him to-night.” And one and all 
laughed as if something witty had been said. 


32 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE, 


CHAPTER IV. 

“ OH, YOU FUNNY BOY ! ” 

When Gregory came down, they laughed the 
louder. 

He had been a long time in coming, and an im- 
patient message had been dispatched to hurry him, 
after the soup had been taken away, and the fish 
helped round. Why in the world could not the boy 
be quick, and sit down with them for once comfort- 
ably ? Mrs. Pomfret had somewhat fretfully queried. 

She was out of humor that evening. It was not 
so often that they could all sit down at once, that 
Gregory, of all people, should be the defaulter, she 
now exclaimed. One might have thought he would 
have been glad to have some company — perhaps a 
faint spark of maternal compunction had prevented 
her being diverted by the notion of her son’s finding 
a family party an interruption — and she was proceed- 
ing to wonder and complain, when the door quietly 
opened, and as quietly Gregory walked to his seat. 

He was in full evening dress. 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE, 


33 


It had never occurred to him to be in anything 
else. 

“ Oh, you funny boy ! ” 

It was Miss Linny who shrieked aloud her favorite 
exclamation. Oh, dear — oh, dear ! Why you have 
gone and dressed ! Who in the world are you dressed 
for, boy? Who did you think we had got here?” 
cried she, and a little mocking chorus ran round the 
table. 

“ So this is what has kept you late, sir ? ” added 
Mr. Pomfret, with something of a surly intonation, 
for, conscious of presenting a slovenly appearance 
himself, he experienced a twinge of irritation at 
having it shown up in the light of a contrast. “ You 
might have spared the trouble. We are all alone, 
and we are half through dinner.” 

“I knew we were alone,” said Gregory, “but — ” 
and he looked from one feminine face to another, 

“ but I thought I ought to dress. I — ^you ” then 

he began to stammer a little, “ don’t you usually do 
it?” he concluded, beginning to feel his cheeks burn. 

It had seemed to him such an event that parents 
and sisters should be there gathered together, that 
the evening meal should be served in the large 
dining-room, and that all three men servants should 
be in attendance, that he had never dreamed of 
slouching in as his father had done, in an old coat 


34 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


and thick boots, but had changed scrupulously every 
article of clothing worn throughout the day, and had 
vigorously brushed down his thick, rebellious hair 
before the looking-glass, so that the disdainful Caro- 
line should not need to tell him he was “ an object 
a second time. 

He now felt like a fool, and fancied the very foot- 
man must be thinking him one. 

He was at that self-conscious age, when if one is 
to be self-conscious at all, the disorder is taken ma- 
lignantly. Nearly all young people have a certain 
experience of it during the teens ; are apt to imagine 
that everything they say and do is the subject of 
comment ; fancy themselves aimed at covertly in con- 
versation ; see personal allusions in general discus- 
sions; are afraid of this and afraid of that; dare jiot 
for their very lives deviate from the beaten track ; 
are in bondage to custom ; and dread above every- 
thing else in the world, a laugh. 

In all of this there is usually a good deal of con- 
ceit. 

But Gregory Pomfret’s self-consciousness had in it 
not one iota of conceit. 

Moreover, it was not indigenous to the soil. He 
had not been a shame-faced little boy ; he had been 
happy and at home with everybody, provided he 
were only permitted to remain in the background ; 


THE HA VOG OF A SMILE, 


35 


and, as he was usually thus permitted, all had gone 
well in his childhood. 

It was only now, only within the last few months 
that a new uneasiness and self-distrust had crept 
into the young man’s breast. He had wondered a 
little — a very little — ^why none of the others of his 
family ever asked him to accompany them hither 
and thither as he had been wont to be asked. Some 
hours of each day he certainly had at his own dis- 
posal, and those hours he — well, yes, he owned to 
himself he would have liked fairly well to pass either 
in company, at home or abroad. 

But his father was now invariably at his club, if 
not conveyed elsewhere, in the evenings, — Mr. Pom- 
fret had developed into a great club man since his 
son’s advent and his doctor’s orders had enabled 
him to take things easy in the city with a clear 
conscience, — and we already know how the ladies of 
the family amused themselves at the close of the 
day. 

They were driving, dancing, attending operas, 
theatres, concerts, — everything in short, that was 
fashionable, and within their reach. 

Gregory had begun by going to the play nightly 
himself. 

But plays taken faute-de-mieux are apt to pall. 
With the feeling that one has to go to them because 


36 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


there is nowhere else to go, and nothing else to do, 
they lose their flavor. It said something for Gregory 
Pomfret that he began to leave off theatre-going as 
soon as he began to leave off taking an interest in 
what went on upon the stage. He did not care to 
go behind it. 

He took to riding instead, and the exchange was a 
good one. But solitary riding soon becomes as soli- 
tary as everything else. By degrees a dull sky, or, 
a little extra sensation of weariness in his limbs, was 
excuse enough for not ordering his horse. 

Thenceforward he had begun that habit of spending 
the hours between dinner and bedtime, in devouring 
a, novel by Dumas, or Victor Hugo, which had finally 
superseded all other ways of passing the time. 

With only here and there a break, Gregory had 
undergone, as we have said, very nearly two months 
of this curious isolated existence, on the evening 
when for the first time that summer all the members 
of the family dined and spent a whole evening alone 
at home. 

During this period the boy had been running down 
both in spirit and in flesh. 

Had there been any kindly soul at hand to take 
note of such a thing, any motherly housekeeper or 
nurse, looking on with watchful eyes, it would have 
been said that Mr. Gregory “ moped,” — but no one 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


37 


in the Berkeley Square establishment cared whether 
anybody moped or not. A family bent on pleasure 
rarely has its valued retainers, or faithful adherents, 
— and Mrs. Pomfret scarcely knew whether the faces 
whom she met by chance on landing or staircase, 
belonged to her own household or not. 

So Gregory’s unfinished plates had been cleared 
away after his cheerless meals, uncommented upon. 

He had grown thin, and had lost color, as Wynnie 
said. Neither she nor any of the others present, 
thought of the observation, as having about it any- 
thing suggestive. For them it simply meant that 
their brother’s probable inability to be present at a 
projected afternoon crush for which they were about 
to issue cards, was not a matter of importance — not 
worth combating. He would come in for the end of 
the aiffair, would hear a few of the recitations, and 
get some strawberries, if there were any left ; — but 
his loss as a smart young man, helping to do the 
honors of the house, would not be felt. Nothing 
would ever turn Gregory into a smart young man. 

It must have been something of this conviction 
which had gradually put into the tone or look of 
each sister a certain contempt, when addressing their 
brother, — and this contempt had penetrated even his 
simplicity. 

We now see why he had grown self-conscious, self- 


38 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


distrustful, anxious to please, and insecure about 
pleasing, when in their society. He had always 
looked up to them ; he now perceived what he had 
never done before, that they looked down upon him. 

No wonder, then, that the color mounted to his 
brow when he found himself the subject of family 
ridicule, on the evening in question. 

He had made his little effort. He had run upstairs 
and dressed as quickly as possible, rather eager, if the 
truth were told, to show how quickly he could dress, 
and how well he could look, when properly turned 
out ; and never doubting that everyone else had been 
similarly engaged, had been somewhat taken back 
on finding himself so late, to begin with. 

But, disturbance on this point was nothing com- 
pared with the confusion of perceiving, immediately 
after taking his seat, that no one else had changed 
their attire in any way ; and the senseless laugh and 
interrogation which followed filled up the measure 
of his discomfiture. 

It was of course only a very foolish fellow who 
could have minded such a thing. Anyone with a 
ready wit and tongue could have so turned the 
tables on one and all the gibers, that it would have 
been their turn to blush — but Gregory Pomfret had 
nothing ready about him, and he had never known so 
miserable a moment in his life. 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


39 


CHAPTER V. 

GREGORY PUTS A FEW AWKWARD QUESTIONS. 

“ You may put on your dress-clothes to-night, my 
dear boy,” said Linny with a patronizing air, a few 
days after this. “Beatrice Andover is coming to- 
night ; and we — that is some of us — dine at home. 
Papa is out, and Wynnie is going to stay where she 
is — at the Feltons — till late; but mamma, and you 
and I are to be at home for Beatrice.” 

“ Oh, bother Beatrice ! ” said Gregory, gruffly. 

Even a worm will turn at last, and he had just got 
to a thrilling crisis in the “ Three Musketeers,” and 
was by this time so deadened down as it were, to the 
level of his dinner on a hot plate, and his easy-chair 
in the bow-window afterwards, that he really had 
begun to dislike an interruption of the routine, as 
Caroline had satirically asserted. 

Moreover, the family at-home, which had been his 
last interruption, had not been a successful affair. 
First had been the sport of which he had himself fur- 
nished the jest, and next had followed some rather 


40 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


spiteful and ill-natured cross-questioning on the part 
of his father, who, like his mother, had been out of 
humor, for the nonce ; while eventually the whole 
community had squabbled and wrangled over the in- 
vitation list produced in view of the projected after- 
noon tea, and nothing else had been talked about for 
the remainder of the evening. 

Gregory had retired to rest, angry and disillusioned. 

“ I had rather be alone than this,” he had muttered. 
“ If this is to be always the way when they are at 
home I only hope they will go on dining out, that’s 
all.” 

On Linny’s present announcement, he retained suf- 
ficient sense of a past disagreeable to mutter audibly, 
“ Oh, bother Beatrice ! ” as we have seen. 

“ Well, I must say,” retorted she, bridling, “ it is 
not much good trying to do anything for you. Here, 
I told mamma that I would stay at home, and made her 
stay too — though I was dying to go to those theatri- 
cals at the barracks — ” 

“ Why didn’t you go ? I never asked you to stay.” 

As Beatrice was coming ” 

“ You stayed for Beatrice, not for me. Why do 
you try to make out you stayed to please me ? How 
does your staying ‘ do anything ’ for me, as you call 
it?” 

“ Why — why — what do you mean ? ” But Caro- 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


41 


line was slightly out of countenance nevertheless. 
“ I supposed you would be pleased,” she concluded, 
lamely, and a passing emotion made her infuse 
a little shade of reproach into the words. 

(I did really think about him,” she told herself, 
“and he might as well have been grateful.”) But 
slie knew in her heart how little he had to be grate- 
, fill for. 

His next words were somewhat surprising. 

“ Is it only you ? ” he demanded, after a pause. 

“ Only I ? Oh, you mean are the rest out ? No, 
mamma is at home ; but to tell the truth, she — she is 
not very well, and thinks she will dine in her own 
dressing-room — ” a little reluctantly, “ and so ” 

“And so there was no one hut you, and you had to 
stay,” said Gregory, looking hard at her. “ You could 
not let Beatrice Andover come, and find nobody to 
receive her but me. Oh, I see, well enough.” But 
tlien he began to smile. “ All right, Linny. I’ll be 
on the square with you, but you might as well have 
been on the square with me, don’t you see ? I like 
Beatrice Andover well enough, — what I can remem- 
ber of her at least. She was a nice little girl, and if 
it is only her, and you, and me-= ” 

“Well, it is only her, and you, and me.” 

“We shall do all right. But I have got out of the 
way of other people. The last night you were all 


42 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


at home ” and his brow clouded significantly. 

“ My dear Greg, it does not do for us to be all at 
home. We have ‘ got out of the way of it ’ also. We 
hate it. We are always cross and disagreeable to 
each other. Papa is as surly as a bear, and mamma as 
peevish in her way. You see we are not family peo- 
ple. We don’t go in for that kind of thing. As soon 
as the season is over, Wynnie and I each fly off among 
our own friends ; and we go back and forward, all the 
autumn and winter, — if one is with mamma, the other 
is with papa — papa and mamma don’t hang together 
either, as you will find out, — and you yourself have 
been so little at home till now ” 

“ I always came home for the ‘ Long.’ ” 

“ And always found us all on the gad-about, as you 
must remember.” 

“I suppose I do remember. You were generally 
abroad. And at Christmas and Easter you were at 
watering-places.” 

“ Yes, in hotels very often.” 

“ But Linny, does everybody — do all the other peo- 
ple you know, go on in the same way, when they are 
at home, and all together ? One reads about ‘ home 
evenings,’ and ‘family parties,’ and — ” he stopped 
and looked in her face for his answer. 

“ La ! there are people and people, you silly boy,” 
returned she, lightly. “ I don’t pry into the secrets 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


43 


of other households, I only know about our own. Of 
course one sometimes comes across a domestic lot,” 
she added, laughing. “ T did last winter, and heaven 
preserve me from being cast upon that barren shore a 
second time. We had music and reading aloud in 
the evenings ! we brouglit our needle-work down, and 
sat round, all in a circle like good little girls, solemnly 
stitching, — it was ghastly. Paterfamilias read aloud, 
and if there was one thing more truly awful than Pater- 
familias’ reading aloud, it was his commenting on 
what he had read. He used to lay the book down on 
his knee, and comment. , Good heavens I Gregory, 
when that commenting began, I used to wish myself 
either in the cold grave without, or in my warm bed 
upstairs. I would cheerfully have stepped into either 
to avoid those words of wisdom.” 

“ I should have hated it too,” assented Gregory. I 
hate being read aloud to. It takes such a beastly 
time,” he added, thinking of the doings of “Miladi” 
in the “Three Musketeers.” Just when you are at 
the best bit of the book ” 

“ Oh well, best bit or worst bit, I detest it all,” 
cried his sister. “I never was a reader, and to have 
reading forced down your throat, and not to be able 
to get away from it, is really more than my philosophy 
can endure. ‘ No, thank you,’ I shall say, next time I 
am invited to that house. ‘ First catch your hare,’ as 


44 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


the old cookery book has it ; first catch me, and then 
you may read to me.” 

“ But there must be other things than that which 
people can do,” urged Gregory, who as we have shown 
had great powers of persistence. “ Aren^t there ? ” 
“Things? What do you mean? You must know 
as well as I. Wliy do you ask me ? ” 

“ Because I don’t know. Because I have never 
been about, and you have. I do not know how people 
go on in their own homes, — I daresay you won’t be- 
lieve me, you would not believe me when I said I had 
never been in London in May, but it was true all the 
same. I have hardly ever visited anywhere. The one 
or two places I went to from Oxford were not places 
to go by. I once went to spend Easter with a fellow 
I knew, when he was quite alone; his father had just 
died, and we were by ourselves all the time. It was 
nice enough ; it was a beautiful place, and all that, 
but it taught me nothing. Now, I want to know 
from you, do girls — ” he paused and felt himself 
blush — “ Hang it all ! ” he broke out, “ are they all 
like you and Wynnie? ” 

“ Like us in what? ” said Caroline demurely. “ In 

appearance — or dress — or ” 

“ Oh, confound appearance and dress ! ” 

“ Really, Gregory, you do use such expressions,” 
“No, I don’t. I only say what other fellows say. 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


45 


And I suppose you and Wynnie only do as other 
girls do. But I want to know one thing,” stub- 
bornly, “ Beatrice Andover, is she as fond of company, 
and dancing, and driving, and theatricals and polo- 
matches and — and all the rest of it, as you and the 
rest of your set are ? I don’t think you were always 
exactly as you are now, Linny.” He hesitated, as 
though reflecting. “ Do you remember that summer 
that you and I had together down at the old farm- 
house? That summer when Wynnie was ill? Had 
scarlatina, or something ? How we enjoyed our- 
selves ! How we scoured the country, and made hay 
of everything ! You were as happy as I. And you 
used to talk to me then ” he stopped short. 

“ Well? ” said she, eying him. 

He made no answer. 

“ Silly boy, I am talking to you now ; and if I talk 
much longer we shall both be late in dressing, and 
Beatrice Andover will have arrived before we are 
ready ; ” and Linny flew from the room, and tried to 
think that something which had made her give a 
little start was only a fancy ; that Gregory’s voice 
had had no break in it, when he said there had been 
once a time when she used to talk to him. 


46 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE, 


CHAPTER VI. 

‘ BEATRICE,’ INDEED ! 

Whether it were from this cause, or from some 
other devoid of all such sentiment, Caroline was 
unable to make her toilette speedily. 

One thing after another went wrong, her maid was 
inattentive, her things were astray, and a note which 
required an answer, was brought in to her when 
matters were at their worst. 

“ Is slie never coming down ? ” muttered Gregory, 
who had been furtively hanging about his own open 
doorway for the past quarter of an hour. 

He had not been quick himself, having experienced 
none of the bright expectations which had sent him 
spinning through his last ceremonious dressing, and 
had been afraid of being so decidedly outstripped in 
speed, that he had let his door stand ajar, ere he had 
absolutely finished, in order to hear his sister rustle 
past, when he had proposed to himself to hurry after 
her as soon as might be. But, no rustling having 
ensued, he had completed all his arrangements, and 
had then stationed himself on the watch. 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 47 

What in the world could Linny be about? Could 
he have been mistaken about the hour ? 

He consulted his watch, the handsome watch with 
which his father had presented him as a security for 
punctuality in Mark Lane, — but no, it was barely yet 
the family dinner-hour, supposing the family could 
be said to have a dinner-hour — and no roll of gong 
had penetrated to his ears. He felt convinced that 
not a soul had stirred in the upper landing since he 
had left his own door open, and it was not like 
Linny to have been so supernaturally quick as to 
have got down ere that precaution had been taken. 
She was invariably the last to appear, though often 
the first to disappear when the mysteries of the 
toilet had to be performed. She was — a door opened, 
and Gregory turned quickly round. 

“ I say, Beatrice will have come ” he began, and 

then broke off short, blushing furiously. 

It was none other than Beatrice herself who had 
emerged at his elbow. 

“ I — I — thought it was Linny,” muttered poor 
Greg, feeling ready to sink through the floor. 

Bad as it was to be thus caught, he could have 
borne anything if jt had not been for that word 
“ Beatrice.” 

He had never called his cousin by her name ; she 
was not quite a first cousin, to begin with ; and, 


48 


TRE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


secondly, she was older than he ; and, thirdly. Miss 
Andover was a personage of whom the whole family 
stood in awe. 

Beatrice was an orphan, rich, beautiful, indepen- 
dent ; all of which considerations however weighed 
as nothing when compared with this other, namely, 
that she moved in a superior world to that which 
owned the Pomfrets. 

Into her world, these kinsfolk, although recog- 
nized by herself had never gained an entrance. 

“ What good would it do them ? ” Miss Andover 
was wont to argue with herself. “ To introduce 
them to the smart people I know would only be to 
expose them to affronts ; or if not, they would only 
grow wilder and more determined in pursuit of 
gayety than they are already. Then, if I asked my 
real friends to take any notice of them, although out 
of kindness to me they might do so, they would find 
it impossible to keep up any appearance of being in 
sympathy on any sort of subject. It would all end 
in a break-down. So I must do what I can by myself,” 
she had been fain to conclude any such reflections. 
“ I must go and stop in Berkeley Square and make 
the best of it ; and at any rate not be wn-cousinly 
and WTi-relationly. They shall take me to their 
houses, if I can’t take them to mine ; and it must 
just happen that I have nowhere particular to go 


THE HA VOC OF A SMILE. 


49 


while I am under the Pomfrets’ roof. The season is 
pretty far through ; ” she had cogitated on the pres- 
ent occasion, ‘‘it will be easy to give up all that is 
left of it ; although I do not look forward to the 
sojourn.” 

And then the fair speaker had sighed, and resigned 
herself to the inevitable. She had a very special 
reason for objecting to her visit this time. 

But Mrs. Pomfret had been very specially urgent ; 
she had hinted that Beatrice had been here, there, and 
everywhere that summer, but had not so far blessed 
her relations in Berkeley Square with the light of 
her countenance ; had “ felt it a little hard ” that they 
should have seen so little of her, even when she 
was stopping close by in Park Lane ; and had indeed 
as good as complained that the young lady had 
neglected her own kindred because she did not 
consider them good enough for her. 

It was the justice of this final shaft which had 
brought Miss Andover now to Berkeley Square. 

She had been brought up to reverence the tie of 
blood. She did not like her vulgar, pompous cousin 
Robert any more than she did his wife and daugh- 
ters ; their ways were not her ways, nor their thoughts 
her thoughts ; but all the same — and it had ended in 
her agreeing to spend a fortnight in their society, and 
sighing as she closed her note of agreement to do so» 


50 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


She had never thought of Gregory at all in the 
matter; in fact, she scarcely knew that there was 
a Gregory. 

He recollected of her, but she had only the slight- 
est possible reminiscence of him. On hearing herself 
now called “ Beatrice,” she could not for the life of 
her have responded with “ Gregory.” 

Indeed her first emotion was a little natural resent- 
ment. Who was this who was thus making free with 
her name ? A tall youth — not even a boy. 

“ Beatrice ” indeed ! She was often ready to bite 
her lips at all the Beatricing which went on in Berke- 
ley Square, where her name was never at rest, and 
where stranger after stranger, every one in short, who 
came to the house, whether mere acquaintance or old 
friend, was made familiar with the sound. 

It was one of her special grievances when with 
the Pomfret cousins, that she was their figure-head 
for the nonce, and in this character was labelled 
“ Beatrice.” 

To hear it beginning already ! 

She turned sharply round upon the speaker, disdain 
in the movement; and poor Gregory saw the disdain, 
and it killed the last flickering ray of spirit in 
him. 

His lip quivered, as he stuck fast in his stammered 
apology : and the deep flush which had mounted to 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


51 


his cheek, crept upwards and overspread his brow. 

“Hum — penitent?” muttered Miss Beatrice, sur- 
prised in spite of herself. “Penitent? And so he 
may be. ‘ Beatrice ’ indeed ! ” But she held out her 
hand with a smile. 

Of course, dear reader, you perceive instantly that 
it was that smile which began all the mischief : kind- 
ly however, have a little patience ; so far we have 
only come to the smile ; not to the havoc it wrought ; 
nor yet to — the end of the story. 

Understand, then, that it was not the fault of Miss 
Beatrice Andover that she possessed the most heaven- 
ly smile in the world. She had a fine nature, by no 
means perfect, but with such a mingling of sweetness 
with strength, of amiability with sincerity, as made 
all who came within the range of her fascination 
wonder what could be the feelings of a creature so 
divine — ^wherein could a woman so perfect be at 
fault ? This, be it understood, however, was a query 
principally propounded by the male sex ; yet there 
were not wanting those, too, of her own, who would 
wax warm in their praise ; for the beautiful and pros- 
perous Miss Andover had done many a kind deed, 
and said many a kind word,— only, on the whole, men 
liked her better than women did, — she had a certain 
swiftness of thought and plainness of speech which 
the latter found inconvenient, and she did not perhaps 


52 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


flash out that magic smile upon them quite so often 
as she did upon the former. Certainly neither Wini- 
fred nor Caroline Pomfret had ever been favored as 
Gregory was now. 

His blood thrilled afresh, but from a new cause. 
What an angel ! What a radiant, dazzling star of 
beauty! What a 

Outwardly Gregory hung his head, and held out a 
sheepish hand to meet the hand held out to him. 

“Dear me! What a limp touch,” thought she. 
“ Someone should teach this boy how to shake hands. 
“ I suppose yon are one of my cousins,” she observed, 
aloud. “ I had forgotten you were no longer at 
school. Aren’t you at Oxford, or something?” 
smiling all the time. 

“ I have just left Oxford. I am in Mark Lane,” 
murmured he, in tones rather too deep to be distinct- 
ly audible. 

“In Park Lane?” Beatrice opened her eyes a 
little, “ What ?— why ?— I ” 

“ I said in Mark Lane. That’s the city,” explained 
Gregory, redder than before. I— I forgot that you 
could not know. It’s my father’s house of busi- 
ness.” 

“ Oh yes, of course. And you work there now ? 
And is he very well ? ” 

And Miss Andover thought she ought now to de- 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


53 


scend, and began to ripple downstairs, looking over 
her shoulder as she went, and showing to the young 
fellow on the step behind, a countenance the like of 
which he had never before seen. 

The result was that he trod upon her train. 

In reality this was her own fault ; for if a young 
lady will wear a long, flowing train of a delicate 
lace-like material, and will talk as she goes down- 
stairs to a person close behind her, and will especial- 
ly entice him to take an interest in what she is saying 
by exhibiting a lovely face with a pair of shining 
eyes and a chin like that of a Greek statue, what can 
she expect but that a youth so entangled will blunder 
into a scrape somehow ? Gregory, eagerly listening, 
anxiously pursuing, adoringly gazing, set his foot 
hard down upon the filmy folds, and they and he 
came to grief by the one luckless action. 


54 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE, 


CHAPTER VII. 

REPARATION. 

Down came the offender, away flew the offended 
fair one’s chiffons, 

A muttered “ confound ” rumbled in Gregory’s 
throat, and was heard of no more ; he was crimson 
with shame, and the violence of his feelings would 
have been soothed by an expletive, but a more 
powerful emotion choked it down. 

What did it signify that he had knocked his elbow, 
trod upon his own foot, and all but slipped from the 
top of the staircase to the bottom, having been only 
saved from the latter catastrophe by a series of 
ungraceful lunges and clutches, — when he cared so 
much more, so infinitely more, that he had rudely 
torn that elegant robe, and alarmed its wearer ? 

Had he alarmed her ? Or, worse still, had he 
simply annoyed her? Was she now jeering at his 
clumsiness in her heart, even while affecting to 
sympathize ? 

For Miss Andover, had herself stayed the down- 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE, 


55 


ward progress of the hapless delinquent, and, still 
holding him by the arm, was addressing herself to the 
task of consolation. 

Poor Gregory scarcely dared to believe that he was 
not really in disgrace. “ Girls hate that sort of 
thing,” he told himself. “ She is only humbugging.” 

But when at length he found the courage shyly to 
lift his eyes and see for himself how the land lay, he 
was met again by that wonderful smile, and, though 
he was only just able to murmur, “ I am so awfully 
sorry,” he knew that the sorrow had been robbed of 
its sting, and would thenceforth become nothing but 
a tender memory. 

“ Do forgive me,” said Beatrice, brightly. “ I 
know very well I ought not to wear my dresses so 
long ; they are always tripping people up,” 

“ Are they ? ” (Intense ineffable consolation). 

“ They twist around tables, and curl up mats ” 

“ Do they ? ” 

“ And dogs and cats come and lie down on them.” 

“ If I had lain down ! But I,” thought Gregory 
with a rueful aspect, “ I have not lain down, I have 
trodden it to bits. “ May I not fetch a pin ? ” he de- 
manded suddenly, seeing that his cousin was knotting 
together, as well as she could, some loose ends which 
even his eyes could perceive would be improved by 
being more securely fastened. 


56 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


“ Do,” said Beatrice, calmly. 

Her eyes laughed as she saw Gregory bound up- 
stairs again, and heard him banging about in his little 
room whose door still stood open, obviously more 
relieved than words could express, by being per- 
mitted thus to repair his misdeed. 

But she could hardly forbear laughing outright 
when he reappeared. 

Whether he had thought that no ordinary pin 
would be adequate for the occasion and the honor, 
or whether he did not possess such an article, was not 
forthcoming, but the two enormous skewers which 
he now produced with evident complacency would 
have exposed him to the derision of almost any 
one. 

Had he been a little older, had he looked a little 
less serious, she must have made some good-humored 
fun of him, for very truth’s sake. Indeed her lips 
had already unclosed themselves to do so, when a 
voice within whispered “ forbear.’’ By intuition she 
divined that jesting would be out of place. 

“ Thank you. How cleverly done ! ” 

“ I don’t think they show — much, you know.” He 
rose from his knees, and critically surveyed his 
handiwork. “ Of course it isn’t quite as it was 

before ”(a mass of ragged ends dangled from a 

boldly projecting pin-point) — “ but I really think 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


57 


on one would see,” concluded the speaker, in a tone 

of earnest conviction, “ and here is another ” 

Please put it in,” said Beatrice, without the 
flicker of an eyelid. 

When Caroline descended to the drawing-room, 
which she did in about ten minutes’ time from this, 
she found the two conversing together with all the 
ease of old friends. Gregory was showing off his 
poodle, and the poodle had its paws on Miss An- 
dover’s lap. 

“ Could not be any quicker — could not really, Bea- 
trice,” began the newcomer, in her heart blessing the 
good fortune which had turned her brother into such 
an unexpected ally. “ All kinds of things hindered 
me, and then came that tiresome Mrs. Mann about 
my — why, what’s the matter ? Why mayn’t I speak, 
Gregory ? " 

“ You have put her off now. She will never do it, 
if she is not allowed to do it at once,” cried Gregory, 
referring to the poodle. “ I had just got her up to 
the scratch, and she would have done it in another 
second ” — vexation in his accents. 

“ Done it — done what? ’’retorted his sister curling 
a lip and obviously put out by the indifference with 
which her entrance and apologies had been met. 
“ Nothing very alarming, I daresay ; but everybody 
thinks his own dog more extraordinary than anyone 


58 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


else’s dog. As for Pompon, I should say she is about 
as stupid as they make them,” added she with a sense 
of using a term in vogue. 

Gregory made no answer. Pie had grown to be 
very fond of his Pompon, during the past desolate 
weeks of life in Berkeley Square ; Pompon had been 
his only friend, if the truth were told; Pompon’s the 
only step to greet him on his arrival ; Pompon’s com- 
panionship the only companionship which had been 
vouchsafed him during his lonely evenings. 

He had occupied himself in trying, not, it must be 
owned, with any great success, to teach Pompon a 
few simple tricks. Pompon was not by nature a 
clever quadruped, and it was only within the past 
few days that she had shown any signs of responding 
to all the pains bestowed upon her. 

But, on the previous evening. Pompon had been 
positively clever. She had wakened up to a percep- 
tion of the root of the matter as regarded one feat 
which had for long been beyond her powers of com- 
prehension, and Gregory had been proportionately 
pleased and hopeful. 

It was the performance of this feat which Caroline’s 
appearance and rodomontade had interrupted ; but, 
hard as this had been to bear, it was nothing to the 
contemptuous sneer at his favorite which had 
followed. 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


59 


He felt a curious sensation. He did not attempt 
to reply. 

What hurt him most was that he knew his sister 
would not thus have spoken had she not been well 
aware he would never speak back, and somehow it 
stung him to the quick that Linny should be so un- 
kind. 

Beatrice Andover took a single glance at his face. 
“ Well, I don’t think Pompon stupid, whoever does,” 
she said in a clear voice, “and I am sure she would 
learn a number of very amusing tricks, if I might be 
allowed to help to teach her. I am s6 fond of dogs, 
and Pompon is delightful. May I ? to Gregory 
whose hand she all but touched, as she caressed the 
black head which was now nestling to her knee. 

Might she ? He knew not what he answered. 

Throughout the dinner which followed it was the 
same. Not all the endeavors of Caroline who, as chief 
talker, would fain have led the conversation into its 
usual channel — would have kept it to the ball-room 
or the tea-room, to the polite gossip of the day, as she 
understood such gossip, in short — could suffice to 
prevent her cousin from dropping such topics as soon 
as she perceived they had no interest for the pale, 
thin boy who was so continuously being reduced to 
sit by in silence, obviously out of it all. 

Gregory, now that she looked at him, had a certain 


60 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE, 


clejectedness in his air and attitude unnatural at his 
age. The color had faded from his cheek, and she 
was sure he ought not to have the dark rims he had 
round his eyes. She came to the conclusion that he 
was not well ; and further, that he was not happy. 
At once she was in arms on his behalf. 

“ He has a nice, dear face,” she told herself. “ He 
is not particularly good-looking, not so good-looking 
as his sisters, but he has a thousand times more ex- 
pression, more refinement. Now that I think of it, 
there used to be a gentle little fellow about at times, 
who was made a good deal of and petted ; can this be 
he ? He does not look as though he were petted 
now. He has a subdued voice ; he is shut up im- 
mediately anyone wishes to shut him up ; and even 
when I ask him a direct question, Linny interposes 
and answers for him. It is too bad. I will just see 
if I cannot cross a lance on behalf of the oppressed,” 
and a light darted into the eye of the fair champion. 
She was very well able to cross a lance with anyone, 
as she was perfectly aware, and she was not blindly 
partial to Caroline Pomfret. 

“ What a curious set of people you seem to know,” 
observed Miss Andover. 

Linny had been herself holding up to view the 
peccadilloes and shortcomings of her multifarious 
acquaintance, had been hinting this and fearing that ; 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


61 


and making out generally that they were a wild, and 
wicked collection of folks, — so that she could hardly 
find fault with the word “ curious ” ; but still 

“ I — I don’t know any of them,” proceeded Bea- 
trice, with a distinct suspicion of superciliousness in 
her accents, “ and they do not seem very interesting.” 

Had she thought over her first thrust for months 
beforehand, she could not have delivered it with 
more deadly effect. 


62 


THE HA VOC OF A SMILE. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE HAVOC BEGUN. 

When Gregory awoke the next morning it was 
with that instant perception of something new hav- 
ing happened with which we are all familiar. It may 
indeed be doubted whether a strange, shadowy sense 
of the same feeling had left him either waking or 
sleeping all through the night. 

It had been a hot night. 

July had now begun, and the trees in Berkeley 
Square had lost their freshness. Gregory had leaned 
out of his open window in the silent hours and gazed 
upon them with unseeing eyes. They had not 
stirred, nor rustled ; and the earliest dawn had been 
ushered in with the same sultry haze as had closed 
the day before. Nevertheless a motionless figure had 
stood for long leaning on the ledge, feeling cooler out 
of bed than in, and thinking, thinking all the time. 

He had so much to think about. 

First of all there was the accidental encounter on 
the upper landing, and that unlucky “ Beatrice ” of 
his. 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


63 


Of course she had heard : she must have heard. 
The movement of her head, the spurn of her shoul- 
der had betrayed not merely the simple fact, but a 
good deal more. He had felt himself wince, and 
wither up; he had been conscious of wishing the 
time-honored wish that he had bitten his tongue out 
ere it had so disgraced him. 

But the next moment the clouds had burst asun- 
der, and the sun had shone out. Bertrice had smiled, 
and he had forgotten everything in her smile. 

Slowly then he had proceeded to piece together bit 
by bit, all that had happened thereafter. The little 
scene upon the staircase, his clumsy awkwardness, 
her charming insouciance., his reparation. He could 
feel again the prick one of those two great dagger- 
like pins gave him, as his trembling fingers strove to 
thrust it where it had no mind to go. 

If he could only get back that pin to keep forever 
ever ; or a shred of the lace ! or anything Beatrice had 
worn, and consecrated by her use ! 

She had worn flowers, but not a flower had dropped 
— although he had looked at them greedily, and had 
hoped against hope to the end of the evening. No 
he had nothing — nothing ! 

Ah, but he had treasure for all that ! No power on 
earth could rob him of the store which memory held 
fast, and from it he drew forth scene after scend 


64 


TEE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


over which he hung with all the passion of a burning 
first love. 

Had he not had dim yearnings lately within his 
bosom, strange fancies regarding something better, 
higher, purer, than the lives of those with whom he 
lived ? Had he not known — although himself he knew 
not that he had — that there was something above and 
beyond this petty routine, these miserable aims and 
desires, if it could but be obtained? How nobly 
Beatrice had lifted up her voice, how glowing had 
been her countenance when giving utterance to the 
very thoughts with which his dull heart had been 
laboring in vain ! 

He had been conscious of gazing on her, until he 
had durst gaze no longer, and had then lowered his 
head with his eyes ; fearful lest anyone should mark 
the expression of his face. 

His cousin had openly avouched the very senti- 
ments which he had discarded with a sigh, as but 
phantasms of the imagination. 

Beatrice had indeed spoken as she seldom spoke, 
for her spirit had been stirred within her. 

We know that she did not love the Pomfret fam- 
ily ; that they fretted and jarred upon her ; and that 
it was only a sense of duty which compelled her now 
or ever to accept their persistently urged hospitality. 
She liked society, but it was the society of agreeable, 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


65 


superior people ; society, in the present accepted sense 
of the word, gave her no pleasure ; while the toiling, 
the striving, the hurrying after gayety, the rattling 
from one crowded, seething mass of people to another, 
the anxiety to be seen where others were seen, to 
do what the rest of the world (their world) was 
doing, which was the pervading atmosphere of her 
cousin Robert’s house, was in the last degree distaste- 
ful. It had always been so. From earliest infancy 
she had recoiled from it as being so. But, now, now 
she beheld the whole in deepened colors. 

At first, it is true, Beatrice had been merely puzzled 
and perplexed. She had by instinct, put lier finger, 
as it were, on Linny’s lips, and frozen the running 
stream of foolish tattle, and she had similarly divined 
that her doing so had been a relief to Gregory. But 
it had not been all at once that she had discovered 
the real state of affairs in the household. It was not 
until after some remark of her own had drawn forth 
from him an assent so warm, so spontaneous, that it 
could have proceeded from nothing short of the 
heart’s conviction, and the fluttering curtain which 
had half concealed and half revealed the truth, had 
suddenly rolled up before his eyes. 

“ Good Heavens ! ” she had cried, almost aloud, “ as 
though frivolity and vulgarity had not been bad 
enough, must cruelty be added to them?” For she 


66 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


had realized, what no one else had thought of doing, 
himself least of all, that young Gregory was being 
cruelly treated in his father’s house. 

It was but a touch, a trifle, a trite enough remark, 
something about “home,” let fall by haphazard, which 
had done it all. 

“ I, too, think sometimes of what a home might be ! ” 
Gregory had said with a kindling eye. 

Linny had laughed noisily at them both. Laughed 
in the first instance with what had been meant for 
an airy archness, a pleasant raillery at her cousin ; 
laughed with the well-known faint inflection of scorn 
at Gregory. 

“ Oh, you funny boy ! ” (How he had learned to 
hate that “funny boy.”) “To hear you talk, and 
give your opinion as if you knew all about it ! Isn’t 
he amusing., Beatrice ? So naive — so deliciously naive 
and simple.^' ' 

“ I’m afraid I don’t perceive the najivete^'" Beatrice 
had replied, almost sternly. She had not looked at 
Caroline’s butt, as she spoke. 

• Don't you? Oh, but you don’t know Greg. He 
has all sorts of ideas ; you have no idea what Greg’s 
ideas are like ; — perhaps he will tell you if you ask 
him ; he let me in for some the other day. They were 
so amusing. ” 

“ I don’t think they would be at all amusing to 


THE HAVOC OF A S3IILE. 


67 


me.” Beatrice had longed to say something crushing, 
something annihilating, something which should make 
her charge — already she thought of Gregory as her 
charge — hold up his head again ; but for the life of 
her she had not been able to think of anything more 
vigorous than the above. 

She could, however, act ; she could turn her back on 
Caroline, and let her laugh out her silly laugh alone, 
the while she selected for herself another companion ; 
and, accordingly, she had risen and, strolling to the 
open window, had smiled upon Gregory as she went. 

He had started forward as though he had received 
a summons. 

She had accepted his hand across the low window- 
sill, and had suggested, “Let us stay out here;” — 
and his heart had throbbed beneath the “ us.” 

After that, a long, long hour had ensued. 

Linny, too deeply affronted to follow the deserters, 
had remained within the gilded saloon, and had seated 
herself at the piano in a far recess, affecting to be 
occupied by some new and fashionable ditties which 
required practising. 

She had thus been safely disposed of ; and securely 
free from interruption, the hitherto lonely boy — for 
after all, Gregory was little more than a boy — had 
allowed himself to be drawn out, and interrogated a§ 


68 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


to every circumstance of his lot in a manner no one 
had ever cared to attempt before. 

He had only wished the interrogation might go 
on forever. The soft syllables falling on his ears 
had been the sweetest music to which they had ever 
hearkened. His own responsive tones had not sounded 
gruff and shy — nay, they had seemed to catch an 
echo of the other’s melody. 

He had told all, confided all, allowed all. He had 
not com-plained of anyone nor of anything ; on the 
contrary, he had softened the recital so far as it could 
be softened, — but, even as it stood, it had shocked the 
womanly tenderness of his auditor. 

Beatrice Andover had been born with a warm, lov- 
ing heart, and an independent spirit. She believed 
in the dictates of the former, and fearlessly asserted 
them by the aid of the latter. The wronged, the op- 
pressed, the suffering, invariably had her sympathies 
enlisted on their behalf; occasionally, it is true, with 
unreasonable vehemence, but always with sincerity. 
Selfishness in every shape she abhorred, and the cal- 
lous indifference of the prosperous to the fate of the 
less happy had ever been a theme to kindle the fire 
within. 

Something of this noble indignation had been vis- 
ible upon her eloquent countenance, as she had by 
degrees mastered the present situation. Her eye had 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


69 


flashed, her nostril dilated. She had with difficulty 
repressed the exclamations with which her bosom was 
heaving, and at parting had held her young cousin’s 
hand with an expression of which she had been per- 
fectly unaware. 

She had owned to herself that what one person 
could do should be done to better his condition. 

That was all, you see, she thought about. To better 
his condition. Alas ! poor Gregory. 


70 


THE HA VOC OF A SMILE, 


CHAPTER IX. 

“YOU ARE LIKE NO ONE I EVER MET BEFORE.” 

When he descended to his early meal, still musing 
over the wonders of the night before, there was the 
lady of his dreams down before him. 

Beatrice was in her riding-habit, and quite pre- 
pared to sit up at the table and have her breakfast 
also. 

“ As soon as you told me of this little arrange- 
ment,” she began briskly. “I saw how it would 
exactly suit me. I delight in a morning ride. The 
Park is at its pleasantest when half the world is 
asleep, and one can get a really refreshing gallop 
instead of a pit-a-pat canter. I have been wonder- 
ing,” and she shot an inquiring glance, “ would it 
be possible for you ever to ride with me at this time ? 
I mean of course for me to ride with you — to accom- 
pany you part of your way — of course, I don’t quite 
understand — but if I could ” 

“ Oh, you could,” replied Gregory, with a new 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


71 


sense of wonder and joy, “ of course you could, 
only — ” and he paused, ‘‘ I am afraid perhaps you 

would not like it. You like the Park ” 

“ But I am not bound hand and foot to the Park. 
Oh, dear me, no. Besides there are other parks 
than one. I am not quite sure where Mark Lane 
is, but surely Ave should have to go through St. 

James’ or the Green Park ” 

“ Only for a very little part of the Avay,” replied 
Gregory, with something of a dreary smile, “ in fact, 
— well, — you see, — ” hesitating, ‘‘ by rights they are 
hardly in the way at all ; but you could come along 
the embankment — ” and he paused. 

“Well, the embankment; why not the embank- 
ment?” cried Beatrice, readily. “I should enjoy 
the embankment of all things.” 

“ Even that,” replied he gently, “ would hardly do 
for , me. I — don’t think me ungrateful — not I, — 
now that I think of it, T believe I ought not to, — 
you see it would take so much time,” he said plainly 
at last, but with a look of disappointment which 
could not pass unnoticed. 

Accordingly, 'Beatrice was not to be put off. 

“Now why, my dear Gregory,” quoth she, per- 
suasiA^ely. “ Why should we not just make the 

time ? By rising a little earlier ” 

“ Yes ? ” said Gregory — “ Yes.” 


72 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


“ By breakfasting at half-past seven, instead of at 
half past-eight ” 

“ Oh, we should not need to do all that/^ 

“ Say eight, then. Half an hour’s extra time 
would do it, would it not ? ” 

“ First-rate. But do you really mean it ? ” de- 
manded the young man earnestly. “I am afraid, 
you know, — I am afraid you are thinking that I — that 
it is rough on me, having to go about alone, and all 
that. And of course it is really only what other fel- 
lows have to do, — and — and it’s nothing. We get 
used to it. I do hope you did not think I was com- 
plaining, Beatrice,” and he pronounced her name 
which she had told him to use, with a softness and 
hesitation that ought to have warned her to be 
careful. 

But she imagined it proceeded only from a deli- 
cacy of feeling. “ None of the others would ever 
have paused before my name for an instant,” she 
thought, “and neither does this speaker behind my 
back. But then we all call each other names behind 
backs. However, Master Gregory may as well be 
presented with the freedom of my small estate of 
three syllables, if we are to be friends ; ” — and 
accordingly she had issued the presentation. 

“ I am sure you were not complaining,” said she 
now, “ but still I may be allowed to lay the flattering 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


73 


unction to my soul that you being, like myself, of a 
sociable nature, would prefer my company to my 
room. There is no doubt that by-and-by when you 
have grown accustomed to your ways, you will make 
new friends, and have all sorts of good times, but 
just now you can spare a leisure hour or so for a 
cousin who is sometimes,” and here, to his infinite 
amazement, her voice faltered and fell — who is 
sometimes,” she murmured, “ a little lonely like your- 
self.” 

“If you put it so,” cried Gregory impetuously 
“you know, oh, don’t you know how happy you 
make me! What fun it will be! with a hasty 
relapse into a more every-day tone. “ Oh, thank 
you, Beatrice, it will be jolly. When shall we 
begin ? I have got a capital horse. My father has 
been awfully kind ; and of course — but stop a bit,” 
care again upon his brow, “ how is he to get home ? 
And how are you to get home ; I can’t leave you in 
the middle of the city, and leave you with May fly 
on 3^our hands, too,” and he stopped to ponder. 

“ Could we not have a groom ? ” suggested she. 

“At eight? I am afraid not. This is not an 
ordeily house. I don’t know much about such 
things, but I am sure our servants are badly managed. 
They are kept up late at night, and — and the fact is 
I am always glad to get away from the house in the 


74 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


morning. You see even this breakfast,” and he 
looked round in disgust. 

The coffee was weak, and the boiled milk burnt 
A couple of greasy, warmed-up cutlets, left from the 
previous evening’s dinner, and a cold ham of singu- 
larly uninviting appearance, comprised all the viands, 
irrespective of bre^rd and butter. The whole was 
set out with a slovenly disregard of appearances 
which told of long-standing and deep-rooted neglect. 

It was not Beatrice’s place to say anything. Later 
on, she could not avoid contrasting the luxurious 
meal to which the family sat down — for they gen- 
erally assembled at breakfast, breakfast being served 
at a sufficiently late hour to suit the most indolent — 
with Gregory’s modest repast. 

To him, however, she could not openly express 
what she felt, and accordingly reverted to the ques- 
tion of the ride, after following his glance round the 
table for a brief moment. 

“ It would be too early to take out a man?” she 
said. “ Then have I been transgressing now in 
having my own horse brought round, though I did 
not need any one to go with me ? I am going round 
the corner to join some people I know who always 
ride at this hour, and gave me a standing permission 
to go with them. They are husband and wife, and 
they ride together. And he goes off to the city. 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


75 


Gregory. I don’t know how he manages it, but lie 
comes home and breakfasts — Gregory why should we 
not do the same‘s We too will ride and return for 
breakfast. We will go quite early ; T shall not mind 
how early : it will be delightful — ” her eyes spark- 
ling. 

“ But how if you have been up late the night 
before ? ” said Gregory, demurely. 

It was so new to him to partake in any discussion 
which had reference to himself, that he felt exhila- 
rated and argumentative, and liad even an enchanting 
sense of having by his sober representations to hold 
this beautiful creature back from doing something 
wild and foolish. 

“ Oh, but I am not going to be up late the night 
before,” rejoined she, gayly. 

‘"'’Aren'^t you?” He was immensely surprised. 
“ Aren’t you going in for parties, and balls, and all 
the rest of it ? ” 

“ I have no invitations,” said Beatrice casting down 
her eyes. 

This was not quite true, but she really meant it 
to be so. She had told her friends not to invite her, 
and they had been somewhat annoyed with her for 
doing so. But she had held fast to her purpose, had 
calmly insisted upon it that she was to be let alone ; 
and in the end had been grudgingly given way to. 


76 


THE HA VOC OE A SMILE. 


Thus she was perhaps able to say “ I have no invi- 
tations ” with a consciousness of adhering to the 
letter of the law of truth, but she was too ingenuous 
not to be a little ashamed of the manner in wliicli 
she had evaded its spirit: and it was this which 
made her now cast down her violet orbs in moment- 
ary confusion. 

“ Oh, you won’t need invitations. My mother and 
sisters will take you fast enough,” replied Gregory, 
disconsolately. “ -hhey have always lots.” 

“But need I go?” 

“Need you go? ” That was a new way of putting 
the question. 

“ You see I have really had enough of the ‘season,’ 
said Beatrice confidingly. “ I am not a great person 
for gayety. A little of it goes a long way with me ; 
and by July I have usually had about as much as I 
can stand. Certainly I have this year^” with 
emphasis. 

“ Wh}^ — then — tell my mother so,” rejoined her 
cousin, promptly. “Just tell her so slap out, and 
there you are. But I thought all women liked that 
kind of thing,” he added, with a lingering doubt, of 
which he could not eiitirely rid himself. 

It would be dreadful to think that she, this divine 
creature, was going to immolate herself upon the 
altar of self-sacrifice, in virtue of anything he had 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


77 


said. And he was conscious of having said a good 
deal. Somehow it had been drawn out of him. He 
began to wish he had been a little less communi- 
cative. 

“ Do you think all women are the same ? ” retorted 
Beatrice, with the faintest possible touch of irritation 
in her tone. “ Has it never occurred to you that 
there might be a woman who could dare to think for 
herself, and act for herself? Must we, one and all, 
be classed like a flock of sheep? Even if we must, 
one flock strays one way, and one another. I belong 
to another flock than the one with which you are 
acquainted, Gregory,” smiling, “ and if you are still 
determined to allow of no individual tastes and 
preferences, at least divide us into sections. My 
section is not Linny’s section, for instance.” 

“ No, indeed.” 

“ Well?” 

“ I don’t know what to say,” said Gregory, “ You 
are like no one I have ever met before, and — and it’s 
a new experience. That’s all,” and he rose from the 
table. 

“ We’ll talk it over to-night,” said Beatric. 

All through the day he looked forward to that 
“ To-night.” 


78 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


CHAPTER X. 

MRS. POMFRET CONSULTS WITH HER DAUGHTERS. 

“ I MUST sa}^ it is a most ridiculous thing,” said 
Mrs. Pomfret, turning for sympathy to her eldest 
daughter with whom she was out driving. ‘‘ Of 
course I wanted Beatrice to go with us to the Gar- 
deners and the Rawlinsons ; she had always been ready 
to go whenever slie was here before, and had never 
made a difficulty about anything. I used to think 
she was glad to get a little amusement, for, though 
she seems to know so many fine people when she is 
away from us, somehow, directly one comes to look 
into it, she has wonderfully few places to go to. I 
expect she is not really so much run after as one 
would think. Of course she sets off a room ; but if 
she looks cold and cross, people don’t like it. How- 
ever, I did want to take her with us both to-night 
and to-morrow night, and do what T will, I can’t get 
her to say for certain she will go.” 

“ What excuse does she give ? ” inquired Wini- 
fred. 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


79 


“ None at all. Merely thinks she is going to ride 
with Gregory, or something of that kind.” 

“ To ride with Gregory ! I thought she had taken 
to riding with Gregory in the mornings before break- 
fast.” 

“ That has been given up. It made his head ache 
for the day. He had never told me he had head- 
aches, but it seems he has told Beatrice ; and they 
have had to give up their morning expeditions in 
consequence.” 

“ It was a crazy thing to do.” 

“ Oh, there was no harm in it,” replied Mrs. Pomfret. 
“ Numbers of people do the same; and I was glad 
Gregory should have the chance. I had been quite 
pleased with the idea. It interfered with nobody 
and ” 

“ — It prevented Beatrice from riding with Linny 
and me in the Row afterwards.” 

“ That did not matter,” said Mrs. Pomfret, shortly. 
She did not see any particular good to* be got by 
Beatrice’s riding in the Row, and was just as willing 
that she should take a seat in her victoria as that 
she should accompany her cousins. Added to which 
some lingering spark of maternal feeling had made 
her not sorry that her neglected son should have the 
notice of his fair cousin, and be the better for it, if 
he could be so to the detriment of no one else. 


80 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


“ But what I do object to is Beatrice’s new way of 
holding aloof from the rest of us,” she complained. 
“ I wonder if she can have got it into her head that 
we do not make enough fuss about Gregory, or any 
nonsense of that kind. Some girls think their 
brothers ought to be first in everything, and I 
remember once that Beatrice had fancied we were 
not as considerate as we might be about your father ; 
she is a girl who flies off at a tangent once she takes 
up a fancy; and how is she to know anything of the 
ways of business men ? I daresay she does not know 
a single other man in business among all her 
acquaintance. I am sure I am sorry that Gregory 
should have to work as he does ; it seems hard upon 
him, with his expectations, and an only son, too, — 
I told your father long ago he ought to put his only 
son into the Guards, or something ; but he turned 
round on me so sharply that I have never said a word 
of the kind again. We ought to be thankful for 
what we have, Wynnie,” leaning back in her easy 
cushions with a sigh of content. “ Of course, if your 
father had not worked and slaved as he did, we should 
never have been where we are ; and we ought to have 
sense enough to see that Gregory must do the same. 
We can’t let Mark Lane go.” She wound up, with 
a perception of saying something profound and sen^ 
sible. 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


81 


“ Mark Lane keeps us in Berkeley Square,” started 
Mrs. Pomfret afresli, presently. “ So that, though I 
should have liked, as 1 daresay we all sliould, to have 
had a gay young spark in uniform come cantering 
about the house, still, as soon as I saw it had got to be, 
I just saw it had ^ot to be, and there was an end of it.” 
And again she heaved a comfortable sigh. 

“ Oh, of course,” said Wynnie, indifferently. 

Wynnie had long ago accepted the position : 
indeed she had never indulged in the vision of a 
dashing young brother bringing prestige to the house, 
as her mother and sister had done, for the very good 
reason that, being possessed of much of the shrewd 
business faculty of her father, she had early perceived 
that if the money so freely spent in one part of Lon- 
don did not continue to be made in the other, the 
fountain would soon run dry ; which state of things 
would not have suited her at all. It had, indeed, 
been Winifred who had suggested Gregory’s recall, 
even before the medical fiat had gone forth as 
regarded his father. 

“ Why should not Gregory take your place ? ” she 
had been the first to demand, when sitting round in 
gloomy conclave, various propositions had been made 
and rejected. 

Mr. Pomfret had proposed to retire, to retrench, 

do all kinds of things indeed, which had sounded, 


82 


THE HA VOC OF A SMILE. 


like so many knells of doom in the ears of his listen- 
ers. He had himself been so thoroughly frightened 
and shaken that he had been ready for anything, and 
had, so his family told him, been unable to judge 
about anything. It might be all veiy well for him 
not to care about giving up the house in town, cut- 
ting down the establishment, and knocking off all 
unnecessary expenses; the brunt of the blow would 
fall on them, on his wife and daughters, who were not 
ill, and did still care to go into the world and be of it. 

Then Winifred had made her suggestion about 
Gregory, and Mr. Pomfret had only wondered he 
had never thought of it before. When the idea had 
been for the second time laid before him, that by 
the lips of medical authority, the finger of Provi- 
dence had been plainly seen in the arrangement. 

Straightway he had set the machinery in motion, 
and all had gone well from the Mark Lane point of 
view. 

But Wynnie had no less in her heart deliberately 
sacrificed her brother according to her notions of 
sacrifice. She had relegated him at once to the 7'6le 
played by her father, and had indeed in her quieter 
way been more cruel than Caroline. 

Once or twice when Caroline would have had 
Gregory included in some scheme or project, Wynnie 
had coldly seen no reason for doing so. She was not 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


83 


proud of her brother ; she would have let him alone. 

“ So you think Beatrice does it out of mere opposi- 
tion ? ” she now observed, after a pause. “ If so, 
she will soon tire of her protege 

“ I can’t but think she does. It isn’t as if she 
were younger, or he were older, — ” and Mrs. Pom- 
fret paused. “ Of course, if there had been anything 
of she began again, but here even Wynnie 

looked amused. 

“ Oh, if there had been anything of ihat^'' echoed 
she, “ we might let them ride together morning, noon, 
and night. Dear me, I wish — but it is no use wish- 
ing. Of course Beatrice thinks of him as the merest 
infant in arms as compared with her, and he is one 

single year younger ” 

“ And what is a year ? ” 

“ A year makes all the difference at twenty-one. 
Gregory is just twenty-one and Beatrice is twenty- 
two. Look at Beatrice ! I am sure she looks as old 
as Caroline, or I ; she has been about so much, and 

she had her own money so early ” 

“Yes, her own money. Her own money would 
have been very comfortable,” murmured Mrs. Pom- 
fret, who, like many a rich man’s wife, never thought 
she could have enough. “And just think what a 
thing it would be for you girls, and for us all ! Those 
proud relations of hers could never go on holding us 


84 


THE HA VOC OF A SMILE. 


at arm’s length as they do, if anything of that kind 
were to come off. We should get to know everyone 
of them. We should be invited ” 

“ You need not trouble yourself to enumerate the 
houses to which we should be invited,” observed 
Winifred coolly. “ As they say on the hunting-field, 
‘ a sheet might cover them.’ Even if a marriage by 
any desperate chance did ever come to pass between 
Gregory and Beatrice — but the idea is absurd ; you 
must see it is absurd. Neither of them would be 
fools enough to think of such a thing for a single 
moment.” 

“ Yet somehow they are always together,” said Mrs. 
Pomfret. 

“ In some instances the more people are together 
the further they are apart. Do you suppose that 
Beatrice — Beatrice who is the proudest of the proud 
— would ever behave as she does were it not that no 
thought of Gregory has ever crossed her mind ? If 
such a thought were once to do so,” and she paused. 

“Well?” inquired her mother, anxiously. 

“We should see the last of her in Berkeley Square, 
tliat’s all,” said Winifred. “ If you want to retain 
your smart young lady visitor under your roof, 
mamma, you can’t do better than go on leaving Greg- 
ory to be petted by her, and you can’t do worse than 
giving the slightest signs of a hope that the petting 
may lead to something more.” 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


85 


CHAPTER XL 

“HOW BLIND BEATRICE MUST HAVE BEEN.’' 

Gregory Pomfret had now found something to 
live for, and the entire absence of any such object 
hitherto, served to intensify and emphasize every 
altered emotion. 

He had, it is true, punctually discharged his duties 
in the counting-house; more, he had found consider- 
able interest and satisfaction in doing so ; as a busi- 
ness man he was, so far, a success, and knew he was 
a success; and we should be wrong to give our read- 
ers the impression that he never had a bright moment. 
His father’s increased confidence and approval was in 
itself a source of quiet gratification ; the pleasure of 
achievement was another pleasure; and, added to 
these, the young man could not but feel that in Mark 
Lane he was a popular and prospectively important 
personage. 

Therefoi’e in Mark Lane he was tolerably content 
and cheerful ; it was the dreary vacuum which fol- 
lowed each busy day, the dulness of coming home 
to a grand, neglectful mansion which cared nothing 


86 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


about his comings and goings, and in whose daily 
routine he had no part nor lot, which was fast taking 
the bright hues out of every outlook, and shutting in 
every prospect as by a leaden sky. 

If this were the “ London season,” and this the 
“ living at home ” which his parents had simultaneous- 
ly vaunted as one of the advantages of Gregory’s lot 
as compared with that of others of his age and stand- 
ing, how would it be when the next few months were 
over ? Where was he to go ? What was he to 
do ? 

He had supposed he should have to go into lodg- 
ings, and he had had no objection at all to the idea ; 
indeed he had soon come to perceive that he would 
have done better to have carried it into effect at the 
start, — but his father had been antagonistic, had sug- 
gested this and that objection— the principal one 
being that on the days when he did not himself go to 
the city he should not hear what had gone on there 
unless Gregory could bring a report — and it had 
seemed only reasonable that such an objection should 
have its weight. 

But he had come to wish that he had combated it, 
presently. With a friend of his own age, in small, 
cosy rooms, with servants who would not look as- 
kance on him, and a cook who would at least consider 
him, he would have been better off. ^ 


T//E HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


87 


And yet, yet when it came to thinking of moving 
into these same ideal rooms during the hot, close 
months of August and September, and dwelling on 
and on in them through the fogs of the autumn and 
the snows of winter, he had a little shrunk from the 
idea. He had become, as we have said, habituated to 
his stagnant existence, and it was rapidly extinguish- 
ing even the desire for a remedy. 

Then Beatrice had stepped upon the scene, and all 
had become changed. 

The homeward journey, which had been wont to 
seem an amusing part of the day, had become on a 
sudden interminable in its length, and intolerable in 
its delays. He could not now fret his heart out on 
an omnibus, dragging its slow length along, — he must 
needs take a hansom, and tell the man to drive quick- 
ly. If by chance he had not the proper fare handy, 
he could by no means wait to get change from the 
lazy footman whom he should have had to summon, 
but must give the driver • something, anything, to 
appease his rapacity, and send him out of sight in 
haste. 

He would feel a shy, unacknowledged desire to get 
near a mirror. His heart would thump when it came 
to opening the door of the boudoir. 

For Beatrice would be usually, almost invariably, 
within. Beatrice, with her bright smile and disen- 


88 


THJB HAVOC OF A SMILE, 


gaged air, would look up on liis approach, and greet 
him as though liis coming were an event, — not merely 
as though he had drifted in from the next apart- 
ment. 

Formerly if any females had chanced to be still 
about when Gregory came home, they would either 
have friends with them with whom .they were in the 
full tide of chat, and to whom he would be accorded 
only the slightest possible introduction — supposing 
an introduction to be inevitable — or they would be 
pursuing some interesting topic among themselves, 
to which, after the briefest of salutations, they would 
instantly revert ; and he would scarcely gain a hear- 
ing if he asked, as now and then he did ask, what 
was going on among them ? 

They never inquired into what was going on with 
him. Occasionally one or other would ask if he had 
met a visitor on the stairs, or in the hall , or he 
would be told that Winifred or Linny had met an old 
college friend who had asked after him, or that a 
relation was married, or dead. 

But relations cannot always be marrying and 
dying, and poor Gregory's stock of news had fallen 
sadly low ; indeed he was at a low ebb in every way 
when Beatrice Andover first crossed his path. 

But now? Now, a fig for news, for sisters, for 
visitgrs, for everything! All he wanted was to 


THE HA VOC OF A SMILE. 89 

behold the one graceful figure reposing in the easy 
chair, whose very look said “ Come to me,” on his 
entrance, and to whom he accordingly went, straight 
as an arrow. 

This was what would follow : 

“ A little earlier than usual to-day, Gregory. Not 
so busy?” 

“ Oh, pretty busy, but — I managed it. And then 
I got home quickly.” 

“No stoppages ? ” 

“ No. That is — ” and here a guilty blush would 
insert itself, for he would fancy himself betrayed by 
the acknowledgment — “ that is, I took a hansom. I 
could not wait for an omnibus.” 

“ I daresay. It must have been hot in the city to- 
day ; and, after all, you are not a poor man. I sup- 
pose you might afford yourself a hansom every day 
if you chose.” 

“ Oh, yes ; but it’s waste, you know. At least,” 
and here the blush again,” at least it is sometimes 
waste. Of course, if one is in a hurry to get home — 
but I — that is, an omnibus is amusing, you see, in its 
' way. I like to watch the people; and it rather fresh- 
ens you up going on the top.” 

“ I wish I could go on the top.” 

Gregory laughed. “ Well, I don’t know,” he said. 
“ It would hardly do for you^ although of course very 


90 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE, 


nice people do go ; all sorts of people ; and some of 
tliem look quite ladies, too ; — but still, — oh you 
couldn’t do it, Beatrice.” 

How blind Beatrice must have been ! 

Gregory might indeed have said the same words to 
his mother and sisters, and would very likely have 
done so ; he did not fancy knock-about women of the 
take-care-of-myself order, — but there was certainly 
an inflection in his present tone which would hardly 
have been there had he been addressing any other 
companion. 

“Well, and has that ship been heard of yet?” 
inquired his cousin, next. She possessed the charm- 
ing art of never forgetting what a bygone conversa- 
tion had been about — supposing it to have been about 
anything in particular ; and of pursuing the topic, as 
though it had had a place in her thoughts, in the 
meantime. 

On the previous evening, Gregory had been full of 
a ship which had been delayed ; had, with some cir- 
cumlocution, confided these details, which had been 
received by Beatrice with profound interest, — but his 
agreeable task over, he had not, it must be confessed, 
given any very special thought to the matter. The 
ship had only been a very little overdue, and no fears 
for her safety had, so far, been entertained. 

He was, however, gratified that Beatrice should have 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


91 


remembered the affair. He was enamoured of every- 
thing she did or said. 

And how about a walk, instead of a ride, this 
evening,” pursued she, next. I have a slight head- 
ache, and have begged off going with your mother to 
a concert, and I am afraid I do not feel quite equal 
to a ride either, Gregory. But Linny says she will 
come for a walk — ” 

“ Linny ? ” Gregory’s face fell. 

“ Oh, perhaps you would rather stop at home ? ” 
rejoined Miss Andover immediately. Really and truly 
she did not understand the sudden cloud. 

To stop at home, however, was not to be thought 
of. He was longing for the air, for movement, — for 
anything in her society, it is true, — ^but for some vent 
to restless, feverish happiness more than all besides. 
The walk accordingly was agreed upon, and, as the 
guest walked between the brother and sister, the 
former had nothing in reason to complain of. 

He had nothing to complain of — but he had much 
to dream upon. He had a step, a voice, a question, 
a jest, a laugh ; he had a touch of the hand, a glance 
of the eye ; best of all, he had a token, a gift. 

In passing a branch of sweetbriar whose sprawling 
arm threw itself with negligent impertinence in the 
way of the walkers along the sweet-scented “ Flower 
Walk ” of Kensington Gardens, Beatrice had broken 


92 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


off the point of the spray, and after inhaling its aro- 
matic fragrance herself, had passed it on. 

Gregory’s face on receiving it at her hands might 
have made her start./ 

She, however had seen nothing, and he had joyfully 
concealed his treasure ; thinking as he did so that at 
last — at last — but we will not pry into his thoughts. 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


93 


CHAPTER XIL 

‘‘PLAYING THE SPY, DID YOU SAY?’’ 

“ It seems to me that these sort of walks had 
better be nipped in the bud,” observed Miss Caroline 
Pomfret, on the following evening, when alone with 
her mother and sister. “ It is all very well to say 
that Gregory is a boy, and that Beatrice is a woman, 
but boys of twenty are at the age of all ages for 
philandering, and for philandering too after girls 
older than themselves. If Beatrice were like anyone 
else I should give her a hint , but she is so stately 

and absurd with us all, that ” and she shrugged 

lier shoulders, as though to shake off the burden 
of an unpleasant idea. 

Mrs. Pomfret saw the matter in another light. 
“ Upon my word, I should not wonder if you were 
right,” she said. “ Upon my word, I begin to think 
that among us we have done Gregory scant justice. 
It was your father’s doing to begin with. He was 
forever bidding me let the boy alone; he was fright- 
ened to death lest we should entice him away from 


94 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


his work, if once he began to go about with us, to get 
into our set, — so that I really cannot blame myself 
for doing as I was bid, for your father was not to be 
crossed, and tlie business is important, as we all 
know. Still, — ” and she looked around for sugges- 
tions. 

“ What makes Linny think there is anything 
between them?” demanded Winifred, abruptly. 

“ I never said I thought there was anything — I 
never did think it,” replied her sister, “ but Beatrice 
is making a fool of the bo}^ that’s all.” 

“ If she is doing that,” and Gregory’s mother 
began to redden, — but she was interrupted by 
Caroline. 

“ Oh, it is not intentionally, I assure you, that is 
the most provoking part of the whole. If there were 
anything one could take hold of, — but there really is 
nothing. It is simply that Beatrice is so possessed 
by the notion that Gregory is a poor, ill-used creature 
whom it is a charity to befriend, that she has worked 
herself up into the Quixotic vein over him. She 
began at me the other day, about his ‘ leading such 
a solitary life,’ and the ‘change it must be for him 
after Eton and Oxford ’ ” 

“ Why did you not tell her what papa said ? ” 
cried Wynnie, almost fiercely. “ Papa was most 
particular that we should not tempt Gregory to 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


95 




neglect his work. Don’t you remember how he 
spoke about it when Gregory first came home? He 
said it would be of no use his coming home at all, if 
he were to do all mamma was planning for him to do. 
Mamma had fully meant him to go about with us.” 

“ Indeed I had,” chimed in her mother, “and if 
Beatrice says that I had not, she is a wicked girl. I 
would have been glad enough to have had the poor 
fellow with us.” 

“We should all have been glad enough to have 
had him with ws,” observed Linny shrewdly, “ but 
his having us with him is une autre chose altogether ; 
I fancy from what Beatrice said,” she added, reluct- 
antly, “ that she thinks we might have given up some 
of our engagements and amusements, when we found 
he would not be able to share them ” 

“ Oh, nonsense ! ” burst from both her mother 
and sister. 

“ I don’t see it in that light, you may be sure,” 
the speaker darted on each a look of impatience, “ I 
am only repeating what Beatrice said — or as good as 
said.” 

“ I never heard such utter — what could she have 
been thinking of ? ” cried Winifred angrily. “ To 
want to tie down a whole family to one boy’s apron 
strings ! To expect that papa, and mamma, and we — 
who are ever so much older than Gregory besides — 


96 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE, 


are all to be at his beck and call, and alter our whole 
way of life because of him! Beatrice ought to be 
ashamed of talking such ridiculous stuff. But I sup- 
pose she is one of those women who think that every- 
thing and everybody ought to give way to the men.” 

“ Yes, that’s it,’^ assented Caroline. “ I believe 
that really is it, Wynnie. Her whole tone meant 
that. W e ought to ‘ consider ’ him more,— to ‘ give 
up’ for him a little, — and all that. Well, all I can 
say is, if one person goes on ‘ considering ’ and 
‘ giving up ’ as she has been doing lately, she will 
land us all in a pretty mess. The fact is that Beatrice 
is looking on the matter from one point of view, and 
Gregory from another; and between them — ” and 
again she shrugged her shoulders with significant 
emphasis. 

She was perfectly in the right. Gregory was tread- 
ing on a quicksand. A flash of new* life ran through 
his veins ; a sense of expectancy, of joyful anxiety, 
and throbbing impatience made the hours burn that 
had before seemed so cold and dead. 

They were instinct now with fire. 

When by the side of his beautiful cousin, however, 
it would seem as though a cool hand were being laid 
upon his fevered brow. He could talk and jest ; he 
was almost calm, while the tumult raged within. 

Once she showed him her photograph. He did 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


97 


\ 


not ask for it. That was his greatest triumph. 

And somehow a feeling which she could not define 
at the moment, just prevented Beatrice from offering 
the gift she had pre-determined upon making. Per- 
haps it was the expression on the young man’s face. 
Perhaps she recognized all at once that he was a 
young man. Perhaps the entire absence of comment 
with which he put away the portrait from him when 
he could no longer venture to retain it, may have 
been another note of warning. At all events, there 
was a momentary awkward silence, and Gregory 
thought he had acted his part as became him, and 
drew a long breath of relief and self-congratulation. 
Then he began quietly to talk to his cousin about 
other things, and succeeded in surprising her anew. 
Surely she had been mistaken in the dim suspicion 
which had troubled her a few minutes before. Such 
mistakes are easily made. People fancy they read 
all kinds of humors depicted in each other’s coun- 
tenances, when a tithe of those humors are in their 
own fancy. 

Only too willing now to acknowledge herself mis- 
led, Beatrice entered into the dialogue suggested by 
Gregory’s opening remarks with spirit, and nothing 
further happened to excite uneasiness. 

Caroline, however, detected her brother leaning 

over the photograph presently. Fast locked in bliss- 

7 


98 


THE HA VOC OF A. SMILE. 


fill reverie, he did not perceive her approach; and 
she had leisure to peruse his features ere he became 
aware of another presence than his own. 

A slight rustle, however, on her part, and the large 
panel portrait fell from his hand. 

“ Oh, you need not do that,” observed she, with a 
steady gaze which took in his start, his frown, his 
bite of the lip, and understood them all. “ There is 
no need to spoil a pretty picture, because you are 
caught looking at it. Beatrice would allow you to 
look at it, I am sure — what? She would not? My 
dear Gregory, you are too modest. Not even look? 
01), yes, ‘you may look, but you mustn’t touch — ’ ” 
affectedly warbling the appropriate notes — “ remem- 
ber that, dear Gregory — you mustn’t touch ” 

“ Hold your tongue! ” The words sounded like 
a low growl of thunder. “ What did you mean by 
coming upon me like that? ” he continued. “ It was 
a beastly mean trick. You know I hate being 
startled, and you tried to startle me.” 

“ And apparently succeeded.” The tone of polite 
mockery stung him, as it was meant to do. 

“ Of course, you succeeded. Anyone can succeed 

in playing the spy. You ” but here he reined 

himself up. 

“ Playing the spy, did you say? ” said Caroline, 
slowly. “The spy? Now, I wonder what there 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


99 


could be to play the spy about? People who are 
merely looking at other people’s photographs surely 
need not mind being spied upon, even supposing — ” 

A muttered oath escaped Gregory. 

“ Good Heavens ! Oh, Gregory ! Oh, my dear 
Gregory ! Oh, you naughty boy ! You funny 
boy 

It was too much. He could have struck her, such 
was the passion that boiled within. As it was, had 
he turned his face to view, even Caroline Pomfret 
must have quailed beneath the livid rage depicted 
there ; but, afraid of himself, he gathered his shoul- 
ders together and turned away, so that she could 
only see the back of his head. 

“ La ! what big ears you have, Gregory ! ” she 
cried, laughing. 

The last lingering spark of sympathy between the 
two died out when those words were uttered. 


100 


TUJi: HA VOC OF xL SMILE. 


CHAPTER XIIL 

“ IT IS NOT THAT I AM THINKING OF AT ALL.” 

Thenceforth Gregory durst not so much as ask 
where Beatrice was, nor what she had been about, 
nor indeed mention her name, when Caroline was 
present. 

His sister had divined his secret, and had made 
sport of it. 

It was bad enough that she should have penetrated 
into the recesses of his breast, carefully concealed as 
he had deemed his treasure there, but he could have 
endured that, had any reticence or reverence been 
shown. 

Once or twice he had fancied that Linny had 
looked at him curiously of late, and had half ex- 
pected her to say something, perhaps to charge him 
with something; in the event of which he had been 
ready either for evasion, or confidence, as the nature 
of the case had demanded. 

He had almost felt as if he would have liked thus 
to have been taxed. It would have been strangely 
delightful to have had to acknowledge the wonderful 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


101 


truth ; to have seen how his sister took it ; and to 
have been thus perhaps given some dim idea as 
to how another person might — might — some day — 
take it. 

Had Caroline laid a soft touch upon his arm, and 
whispered a kind word in his ear, on the occasion of 
finding him with the portrait of Beatrice in his pos- 
session, she would have heard all ; as it was, the only 
syllables that were not frozen on his lips were those 
of a man outraged in his tenderest point. 

And the last insult (in the present excited state of 
his being he termed it “insult,”) sent — we must con- 
fess it — the tears to his eyes. He had rather weak 
eyes at the time — he was weak altogether. Every 
mole-hill was a mountain. 

“ I think I woke him up a little,” communed Car- 
oline with herself, “ I think I gave him a hint he 
will remember. Why, dear me, that moon-struck 
face of his would have betrayed him to anyone ; so 
he may thank his stars it was only to me, as it hap- 
pened, who knew all about it before. The stupid, 
tiresome fellow. Now, if he goes and lets out any 
of this, it will undo all the good he has done ; and 
instead of staying on, she will simply flee the scene, 
and never come near us again. I was bound to 
muzzle him, if it were only to make sure of Beatrice 
for the 28 th,” 


102 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


Beatrice had already extended her visit a week 
beyond the term originally fixed. 

Ostensibly she had done so to please her elder 
relations, Mr. and Mrs. Pomfret, and to accompany 
their daughters to some July garden-parties. The 
garden-parties of July had set in with considerable 
severity; and Miss Andover, since she had to go 
with the Pomfrets somewhere, preferred them to 
other forms of entertainment. Accordingly she had 
suffered herself on these grounds to be persuaded, 
but everyone knew that her real reason was Gregory. 

She had been able to effect some sort of reforma- 
tion in the household as regarded Gregory. 

Her persistent recognition of him as a personage, 
entitled to a voice in family matters, to a hearing in 
family projects, to consultation, to participation, to 
everything in short as to which a son and brother of 
the house might justly lay claim, had been first suc- 
cessful with Mr. Pomfret, next with his wife, and 
lastly — and we fear for selfish reasons only — with 
Winifred and Caroline. 

“We must humor her,” they had agreed, “ it 
would never do to seem ill-natured ; ” but, all the same, 
we know the light in which they looked upon their 
cousin’s championship. 

Mr. Pomfret, however, had been heartily pleased. 
All along he had been infinitely less to blame than 


Me havoo of a smile. 


10,3 


the rest ; his mind had simply been imbued with a 
leading idea, which had taken possession of it to the 
exclusion of every other. That his son should be a 
thorough “ business man,” that his heart should be 
in his work, that he should seek neither recreation 
nor rest till he had well-nigh worn himself out, as the 
parent himself had done, seemed in his eyes the one 
thing to be desired as regarded Gregory. As all his 
doubts and cares and fears had been steadily set in 
that direction, he had had no eyes for any other 
contingency. 

“ Stick to it, my boy ; stick to it ; ” had been his 
one word of encouragement, of approbation, and of 
warning. 

He was now well satisfied with the result. Greg- 
ory had “ stuck to it ” as manfully as heart of man 
could have desired, had lived for the life he led, as 
completely as though no other existed ; — and what 
though his quiet face grew paler, and duller, and 
thinner as the weeks passed on ? 

But Beatrice Andover’s short, curt, almost con- 
temptuous epithets had made poor Mr. Pomfret’s 
breath come and go. 

“ What ? — what ? — what ? — ” he had cried, — 
“ What? — my dear Beatrice — I — upon my word, I 
hope you are mistaken. Gregory is doing excel- 
lently, admirably. We are making a first-rate business 


104 


THE HAVOC OE A SMILE. 


man of him. He will tell you himself that he is the 
right man in the right place ; and let me tell you, 
my dear young lady, that the right place is not 
always to be found for the right man in these days. 
Gregory may think himself a lucky fellow, to step 
into his father’s shoes, as young as he is. Most sons 
are double his age before they have his position. 
He will be a rich man before he is thirty. He ” 

“ It is not that I am thinking of at all,” Beatrice 
had made answer briefly. 

But she had found it difficult to expound her 
views. It had seemed so odd, and unnatural, and 
impertinent, when she came to face them, that they 
should be such as to make her seem better and wiser 
than everybody else. She had been able to drop a 
word, or fire a glance, when Gregory’s name was 
mentioned, or omitted, with excellent effect ; she had 
found no difficulty in shaping her own days so that 
he should benefit thereby — but she had failed when 
endeavoring to put into decent language her opinion 
of the manner in which he was treated by the house- 
hold generally. 

Nevertheless, Gregory had been the better for the 
interview. 

Whispers of it had run up and down the house : 
the very servants had winked to each other, and 
some of the better-hearted ones had on the instant 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 105 

turned upon the others, and declared that for their 
parts they had always said it was a sin and a shame 
to leave the poor young man so much alone, and that 
no good would come of all that running after this 
thing and that, forever and ever, and never using the 
big drawing-room, unless it were for compai^y. 

The big drawing-room was, however, to be used 
upon the 28th of the month, on which occasion Mrs. 
Pomfret was to have a dinner-party, regarding which 
she and her daughters had a very special anxiety. 

A peep into the boudoir a few days before the 
expected festivity will explain to what this referred. 

“ Whether it is off, or whether it is on,” said Win- 
ifred, decidedly, “ there is no doubt about one thing. 
Major Heath is coming on the 28th, and if Beatrice 
is not grateful to us, we cannot help it. He simply 
made us ask him.” 

“ She is very huffy on the subject, all the same,” 
observed Mrs. Pomfret, shaking her head. '‘When 
T did but ask her whether she would choose to have 
him to dinner or not, she would hardly answer me, 
and Iqoked live coals.” 

“Does she think we know anything?” said 
Caroline. 

“Oh ‘know anything’! How should we know 
anything? It was by the merest chance I heard ; 
and if she goes at me, I shall say that Lady Fanny, 


106 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


for all she’s Lady Fanny, is the last person in the 
world for truth,— and of course, we might have 
thought that if Beatrice, stopping as she is in the 
house, had not wished to have any friend of hers 
invited, she would have said so without a scruple. 
Oh, I’m all prepared if anything goes wrong ; my 
only fear,” with a sudden hesitation, “ the only 
thing now upon my mind, is — Gregory.” 

“ Gregory ? ” ejaculated both her daughters. 
“What will he say to it all ?” demanded Mrs. 
Pomfret, slowly nodding from one to the other. 

You know what you both think. Now if another 
admirer appears in the field ! ” 

“ Another admirer ! ” echoed Caroline, scorn- 
fully. “ Poor Gregory would indeed be flattered oi 
he knew he and Major Heath were being classed 
together as co-admirers of the beautiful Miss Andover. 

o 

Why, don’t you know, mamma, that Major Heath is 
the handsomest man in London at the present mo- 
ment ? That he is the most run-after, most sought- 
after, rhost galloped after, man of the day ? That his 
going out of town, going off no one knew where, at 
the very beginning of the season, was an afflic- 
tion little less than the absence of royalty itself would 
have been ? That when his coach was no longer at 

the Four-in-Hand meet, and ” 

“ Oh, for goodness sake, stop, will you?” inter- 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


107 


rupted her mother, peevishly. “ What has all this 
to do with it ? What does it matter where whose 
coach was no longer? ” her grammar giving way in 
one long rent. “All I care about is, are we to let 
Gregory in to the dinner, or not ? ” 

“ Let him in ? ” Again Linny echoed the words 
with her noisy laugh. “ Cart-ropes would not keep 
him out. If we can conjointly keep him in order 
during the meal that will be as much as we can do. 
He won’t like it, I can tell you.^’ 

“ It will do him good,” said Winifred bluntly. 

“ So much good that I am in hopes of a 'perfect 
cure,” assented her sister, “ that was one reason — 
though of course only one reason — for my getting 
mamma to ask Major Heath. If Beatrice is only 
reasonably, civil to Major Heath — I suppose he is to 
take her in ? — ” she broke off interrogatively. 

“ Of course,” replied her mother. 

“ Well, if she is only fairly agreeable and loqua- 
cious, and if he is as much smitten as people say he is, 
poor Gregory will be in a bad way. He will see such 
a magnificent man, and will hear that he is so tremen- 
dously run after, will be so taken aback, and over- 
crowded altogether, that I — I don’t think I shall catch 
him fondling Beatrice’s photograph again in a hurry.” 

“ But still you say there is nothing decided be- 
tween this Heath man and Beatrice ? ” inquired her 


108 


THE HAVOC OF ji SMILE. 


mother. “ Certainly, it would be odd that we should 
never have heard of it, if there had been. And she 
has not the air of an engaged girl. Nor yet of a 
jilted girl. She has a word for everybody ; and the 
only time I have ever seen her show temper, has 
been when she thought we were neglectful of Greg- 
ory. To be sure she does not seen over well-pleased 
that we should have asked Major Heath ; but as 
Wynnie sa3^s, how could we help it ? I am sure I 
for one, never knew how it was done. I 'scarcely 
knew that I had a place vacant for the 28th, till I 
found myself being thanked for my ‘kind invitation.’ 
But when I told Beatrice she colored all over, and 
gave me such a look ! ” 

“ She does not like her smart men to find her here, 
I suppose,” said Wynnie, with a frown. I suspect 
that Beatrice has a great deal more of that sort of 
thing in her than we used to think. Did you notice 
that Major Heath spoke of having known her at her 
aunt. Lady Fordsham’s, and at some other big house 
of the same kind ? Evidently, Beatrice had never 
told him about us, or that she was stopping with us, 
or anything ; and I should say he was overjoyed to 
come wherever she was, and ask no questions. If he 
does think we are not in his or her regular set, he 
seems too sensible a man to mind that. I am very 
glad mamma asked him ; he will look simply splendid 


ms HAVOC OF A SMILF. 


109 


in our rooms, and Mrs. Walmer, who thought so 
much of having lanky Captain Dixon at her dinnei-, 
will wonder who in the world, we have got at ours ? ” 

‘‘ Yes, I hope he will come rather late,” observed 
Linny. 

“ Late ? It would be much better if he came 
early.” 

Oh, no. Coming in late, everybody would see 
him.” 

“ If he comes early, they will not only see him but 
look at him.” 

“ Provided he stands on the rug. But he won’t 
stand on the rug ; he will get into a corner, or 
behind the folding-doors, or somewhere out of sight. 
Oh, he had much better come late.” 

“ As if we could not prevent his getting into 
corners in our own drawing-room, at our own party ! ” 
cried her sister. “ I will engage to hold him in 
hand, and plant him well in view, if he comes 
early.” 

“ No one will hear his name if he comes early.” 

“ His name is no particular name.” 

“ Oh, yes, it is ; a major is always a major ; and 
Major Heath sounds well, besides having a sort of 
familiar sound. I am sure I have often heard of 
Major Heath.” 

“ Who is Major Heath,” said a new voice in the 


no 


THE ilA roc OF A SMILE. 


doorway, whose tone of inquiry almost made the 
speakers start. 

Somehow they had not meant to tell Gregory any- 
thing about Major Heath. 


THE HA VOC OF A SMILE. 


Ill 


CHAPTER XIV. 

A JULY DINNER PARTY. 

The evening of the 28th proved to be one of those 
exquisite nights of ripe Julj^when every living thing 
and inanimate object alike seems to have ariived at 
maturity ; when there is no longer anything new to 
be expected from Nature ; wlien every nest is hatched 
and every bud has burst ; and the longest day is over ; 
and one and all draw a breath and pause ; hovering 
upon the summit towards which so many lines have 
converged. 

To such a night a certain sadness of the soul is a 
not infrequent accompaniment. 

Prosaic people aver that the July atmosphere, 
being charged with electricity, is apt to produce an 
uneasy effect upon the nervous temperament; and 
that the languor, :and lassitude, which overcome even 
robust constitutions at such a time, are due to this per- 
fectly natural and explicable cause, — but, apart from 
this, there is, methinks, a sympathetic subjugation of 
the spirit, a drowsy heaviness of the limbs, when the 


112 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


youth and buoyancy of spring is over, and nature is 
replete and still. 

Gregory Pom fret did not understand this, and 
wondered why he did not feel happier and merrier, 
as the summer night drew on. 

Nothing had gone wrong with him throughout the 
day. He had even had rather a good day. One or 
two things had pleased him in Mark Lane. He had 
heard news which he knew would gratify his fatlier. 
He had found out that a matter which had troubled 
him was not of the importance he had thought it to 
be. A missing letter had been found. And he had 
not left early, being content to wait and perform his 
part of the day’s work faithfully to the last, the while 
he had told himself that liis reward was at hand. 

Yet, now, at home, and preparing for the festivity, 
he seemed like one in a dream. He could not get 
up any interest in the affair. It had interested him 
greatly when first he had heard of it. He had in- 
sisted on seeing ever}" answer, and on hearing every 
detail. He had been quite satisfied upon being told 
that he was to hand in to dinner a harmless little ffirl 

O 

of nineteen, one of the “ nice girls” with whom he 
was always well content; and to have an equally 
harmless elder lady on his other side. He had never 
expected to sit by Beatrice. 

Beatrice was to be given to a Major Heath ? All 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


113 


right. Majors as a rule were old-fogeys ; nobody 
ever thought of a Major as anything but a Major ; he 
supposed his mother had picked up a half-pay veteran 
somewhere or other, and had owed him a dinner. He 
had not heard who else was to sit beside his cousin, 
but he had furtively stolen into the dining-room and 
inspected the table arrangements for himself, and had 
still found nothing at which to cavil. 

A respectable member of Parliament had been 
relegated to the seat on Miss Andover’s left hand, 
and his own place was directly opposite. 

Directly opposite. He had felt himself quite in 
luck. 

For a few moments the effect had been such as to 
galvanize every limb into activity, and he had shot 
upstairs to make ready, feeling excited and inspirited. 

But dressing took him some time : the eveningwas 
hot ; he did not like his appearance in the mirror ; and 
the gardenia which he had bought in the city began 
to turn brown at the edges. 

Even when he was all ready, instead of descending 
to the drawing-room, he sat down in a chaii*. 

After all, what was there to anticipate in the hours 
before him? Why had he fancied he was to derive 
pleasure from them ? If Beatrice were not to be near 
him, not to be speaking to him, what good did it do 
that \\G might just sit and look at her ? He Imd not 


114 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


had her company on the previous evening, either. 
She had had to go out somewhere ; and for two con- 
secutive mornings, although she had been down at 
breakfast, she had come in so late that he had to be off 
almost immediately after she had appeared. 

He had asked about riding, and had been told tliat 
the weather was too warm for riding. Beatrice had 
spoken gently, as she always did speak to him, — but 
she had not proposed any other arrangement. He 
had felt a little shock at the moment, the sort of cold 
touch that we all know, when the tremulous expec- 
tation of our hearts meets with no response, — but the 
feeling had passed, and he had told himself that it 
never ought to have been there. 

Be miserable for that? For what? Because per- 
chance, a feeling had arisen — and oh, joy if it had 
arisen! — that enough had been done on the one hand, 
and that maidenly reticence and maidenly modesty 
now demanded that all further advances should be 
made by the other ? 

Was it possible — barely, tremblingly possible — that 
his cousin had said as much to her own heart ? 

Beatrice was one year older than himself. 

A year — what was a year ? 

She had begun by looking upon him in the light of 
a boy, and he had not been deceived by the frankness 
of her speech, by her open interest in his affairs, and 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE, 


115 


by her general partisanship ; — but, supposing she had 
come to perceive that she had been mistaken in thus 
regarding a man of twenty -one, and that this little 
rebuff had been the first-fruits of that discovery ? If 
it had, should he not be a fool indeed to cavil at such 
first-fruits ? 

Thus he now strove to argue out, point by point, 
and every argument proved the weight upon his 
spirits to be a foolish, causeless weight. Why, then, 
could he not shake it off ? He did not know. 

In the drawing-room, however, all was presently 
gayet}^ and brightness. 

For a wonder, people arrived punctually, and 
arrived in their proper order. Mrs. Pomfret had 
precisely the required minute or two between each 
announcement, which enables a hostess to arrange 
her guests and effect introductions. Without effort 
couples were joined together, and appeared to take 
kindly to each other. All went serenely on, and if 
any one suspected the presence of one of those deep 
under-currents which so often underlie the smooth 
surface of passing events, no notice at any rate was 
taken. 

Caroline came up to her brother and laid her hand 
upon his arm. “ Don’t forget yoir are to take in 
Florence Airlie,” she murmured. “ The Aiiiies are 
here now ; I saw their carriage arrive when I was in 


116 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


the window. And your places are near the middle 
of the table.” 

“ All right,” said he, indifferently. 

“ Exactly opposite Beatrice,” pursued his sister, and 
departed. 

Exactly opposite Beatrice? Gregory smiled to him- 
self. Then he glanced at Beatrice. Her face was 
turned from him, but he could perceive that she was 
conversing easily with a quiet-looking man of no parti- 
cularly distinctive appearance, and told himself that 
he had nothing to fear from Major Heath. 

It was as he had thought ; his mother had provided 
an unexceptionable, uninteresting individual for her 
young guest; and, whilst approving her discretion, 
he could not help secretly rather wondering at it. 

With the family desire to make the most of Miss 
Andover, it did seem a little strange that they could 
not have produced a partner more suitable, on the one 
occasion of their entertaining during her visit. 

But even as this reflection rose in his mind the door 
was thrown open for the final arrival, and the unex- 
pected words, “ Major Heath,” fell upon his ear like 
a pistol shot. 

His face changed. The room seemed to spin round 
with him* 


TEE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


117 


CHAPTER XV. 

MISS AIRLIE FINDS GREGORY POMFRET THE BEST 
FUN GOING. 

Caroline Pomfret had told her mother that 
Major Heath was the handsomest man in London, — 
but we all know that there are many such men, or, to 
be more explicit, many men of whom the same thing 
is said. Given a certain height, and certain features, 
and a certain status, almost anyone, certainly almost 
any bachelor in society is eligible for the title, — and 
accordingly it need not surprise our readers to hear 
that they have probably each and all met with many 
an one possessed of quite as good a claim to be con- 
sidered an Apollo Belvidere as the guest who now 
entered Mrs. Pomfret’s drawing-room. 

Charley Heath, as his intimates— and a good many 
who were not his intimates — styled him, was certainly 
a fine-looking fellow, with a soldierly bearing, and 
the air of a man of the world,— but it was poor 
Gregory’s jealous eyes which invested him with such 


118 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


a halo of danger as made everything else forgotten, 
the moment he appeared. 

On a sudden the poor boy felt as though he had 
been fooled — swindled — made the victim of a vile 
conspiracy. Why had he merely been told the 
stranger’s name ? Why had no one so much as 
dropped a hint of the kind of personage Major Heath 
was to prove ? 

Major Heath was to have Beatrice, and — ^yes — 
he was speaking to Beatrice now. It appeared as if 
he knew her. They met as friends. He saw their 
hands touch each other; noted the few words ex- 
changed ; observed the lady resume the seat from 
which she had half risen, and turn again to her 
former companion. 

He drew a breath of relief. If this were not a 
first encounter, if Beatrice had been already seen, 
and known — he looked almost happy again, recollect- 
ing that he had never once heard his cousin mention 
Major Heath’s name. 

“ How charming these roses are ! I am so fond of 
roses ! ” It was his own lady who was speaking, and, 
truth to tell, Florence Aiiiie was saying to herself 
at the moment that she would rather have had any- 
one else in the room for a companion than the stupid 
son of the house, who, even when he had begun to 
speak, seemed to forget what he had had to say. For 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


119 


Gregory had begun a sentence and had left it un- 
finished when Major Heath appeared in the doorway. 

He did not even hear, now that he was being 
addressed. 

Such inattention however, was not to be borne. 
Florence told herself that as she had got to have this 
dolt of a Gregory, she must make the best of him, 
and at all events appear to be getting on all right, 
and duly impressing the partner who had been 
selected for her. 

“ The worst of roses is they do drop their leaves so 
in hot weathe,r,” she now proceeded. “ It is of no use 
trying to wear them ; you simply scatter your rose- 
leaves in everyone’s path,” and she smiled and 
waited for the inevitable compliment. 

Gregory however, was in no mood to strew sweet- 
ness in anyone’s path. He murmured a senseless 
rejoinder with his eyes still fastened upon the distant 
sofa. 

“ Do you know what they say of Major Heath ? ” 
pursued Florence. 

“ What ? ” The word came back like a cannon 
shot. 

“ What is coming now ? ” thought he. He fixed a 
burning gaze upon his informant’s face. 

“ Oh, nothing, or rather only a little thing,” and 
Miss Airlie laughed affectedly. “ Nothing to make 


120 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


you turn on me like that, I assure you. Is Major 
Heath a friend of yours ? ” 

“ What do they say of him ? ” 

“ Nothing bad, at any rate.’’ 

“ But what ? ” 

“ Have you not heard it ? ” 

He perceived he was being tormented, and that 
silence was his best refuge. 

“ Ah, well, I am thankful to see you have some 
curiosity, I assure you,” pursued the persevering 
young lady, still struggling with her destiny, “ so 
now that I have roused your curiosity, I shall pro- 
ceed to raise your jealousy. Well, they say — of — 
Major Heath ” — aloud. The door opened and dinner 
was announced. “ That he is the handsomest man 
in London,” concluded the speaker, triumphing in 
her climax. 

But her triumph was of short duration. 

“ Is that all ? ” said Gregory, with a contempt which 
was obviously sincere. “I thought, — I supposed it 
was something very different something much 
more interesting. Oh, he is the handsomest man in 
London, I daresay,” with a little snort. “I am sure 
he may be so for me. Men don’t think much of 
looks. I had thought, — 1 had hoped,” hi paused. 

“ What?” 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


121 


“ That you had something really to tell. Some- 
thing particular — some story — or — news — ” 

“ Story ? News ? ” Miss Airlie stared. “ Did you 
mean that he was engaged to be married ? ” she de- 
manded, after taking a step or two down the stairs. 

This was precisely what he had meant, what he 
had longed to hear, and what would have set his 
mind at rest for the remainder of the evening. 

But the idea was a new one to his partner. She 
was not in the set which claimed Major Heath as its 
own, and knew but little about him. She had merely 
meant to be smart and amusing, and to see whether 
she could not run up a little bantering skirmish on 
the subject, which would at least show her to be 
a girl who would talk and make a man talk, not 
a simple schoolroom miss who was content to gape 
at the show and take no part in it. 

It flashed upon her now, however, that she had 
once heard a rumor, vague and shadowy indeed, but 
still a rumor of some kind, about a love affair in 
which this very Major Heath had figured. For 
worlds she could not recollect what the affair was, 
nor how it had ended ; but, quick as thought, she re- 
solved it should serve her purpose at this pinch ; and 
accordingly, “Oh, you are so dreadfully clever,” she 
simpered, “ Now, what am I to say ? If you will 
guess, you know — but I don’t fancy it is given out 


122 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


yet, and at any rate, I have no business to tell tales. 
Pray remember, Mr. Pomfret, when you are officially 
informed of the fact, that you had never heard a 
word of it from me.” 

“ All right,” said Gregory, with a bright look, “ oh 
of course. I ought not to have put my finger on the 
spot, ought I ? ” He was now in spirits to go on 
talking. “ Only when a person says to you, have 
you heard about anyone ? it is the first idea that 
comes into your head. I only fluked it, I do assure 
you. Here are our places,” leading her briskly 
round. “ Right opposite them — the window, I mean, 
catching himself up. “ What a jolly night it is ! I 
am so glad we have all the windows open. It would 
never do if my mother had not had her boxes well filled 
though. People would see in. This house is lower 
that the rest ; I mean the dining-room floor is. But 
we are all right behind the window-boxes.” His tone 
was pitched for continuance, when all at once the 
stream of talk ran dry. Beatrice and Major Heath 
were taking their places. 

They had entered the room before Gregory and his 
partner, but had perambulated all around the long 
table in quest of their allotted seats, and had only just 
found them. They were making the usual trivial 
remarks, and wore the careless, disengaged air of 
people occupied merely with the scene before them. 


THE HA VOC OF A SMILE. 


123 


“ How charming your cousin looks ! ” 

It was Miss Aiiiie’s good-natured way to think and 
to say that people looked charming. “We all admire 
her so much,” she proceeded. “ We think her quite 
lovely; she has such lovely eyes and mouth, and 
such a heavenly smile.” 

No answer. She thought Gregory was not. listen- 
ing. 

“ A nev/ dress too, I should say ; and the very color 
for her. She can wear pink and not look pale. 
Those pink flowers in her hair 

He stole a glance. 

“ I wonder what they are,” proceeded the chatterer. 
“They set ofl her dark hair, don’t you think? We 
fair people fancy ourselves in pink, but I daresay it 
is a mistake. I wish I had worn blue. Miss Ando- 
ver in pink kills me in pink ; whereas in blue,” and 
she waited to be told what would have happened to 
her in blue. 

“ In blue you would have killed everybody,” re- 
joined Gregory, gallantly rising to the occasion, 
“but blue is the color for blondes, is it not? I am 
sure I used always to hear that blond and blue 
went together.” 

(“ ’Pon my word he is waking up,” thought Flor- 
ence.) 


124 


THE HA VOC OF A SMILE. 


“ Oxford blue, I suppose you mean, sir?” said she, 
saucily. 

“ No, Eton,” retorted Gregory with equal spirit. 
“ I am an Eton as well as an Oxford man. Miss Airlie.” 

( “ He is really waking up,” cried she to herself, 
enchanted.) 

After that she had no cause to complain of him. 

It was obvious that on the other side of the table 
conversation flagged, and tlie longer that the pauses 
grew betwixt Beatrice and Major Heath, and the more 
silently he sat, the while she conversed with her 
neighbor on the other hand, the more vigorously did 
Gregory and his pretty partner keep up the ball. 

Gregory was certain, positive, that Beatrice was out 
of spirits. True, she looked beautiful, but to him she 
was always beautiful, while he had never seen her in 
the pensive vein before. Some cause for that sweet 
seriousness there must be, and if some cause, what 
cause ? 

Once or twice he caught her eye, and fancied she 
looked furtively, almost anxiously, at him, also that 
s1ie snatched her glance away directly it was met. 

The blood began to dance in his veins. 

He talked, jested, rattled, said the silliest things 
and laughed the silliest laughs. 

Happily, however, he neither eat nor drank ; had 
he taken wine, the effect might have been disastrous. 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE, 


125 


As it was, he was undergoing a species of intoxica- 
tion. A hope, a joy, a wild dream possessed his soul 
which had the effect of stunning every other sense. 

As for Florence Aiiiie, she was amazed beyond 
description. How she had underrated this Pomfret 
youth! What injustice he had done himself! He 
was simply the best fan going ; and she, who had 
been chafing against her hard lot in having been 
doomed to accept him for her dinner-table companion, 
had been quarrelling with the best piece of bread- 
and-butter that had been offered her for many a long 
day. 

She was bound now to make up for such a misun- 
derstanding. 

“ Major Heath is like a firie statue,” she whispered. 
“ Good to look at, but not lively on nearer acquaint- 
ance. We will suppose his mind is elsewheie,” 
significantly. “ He beholds another fair one, fairer 
even than Miss Andover, and Miss Andover’s charms 
have no power to touch his preoccupied heart. Yet 
the man might be civil for manner’s sake,” she 
added, with a feint of indignation which Gregory 
found delightfully witty. 

He laughed with exquisite enjoyment. 

“Just for the look of the thing,” he assented. 
“Just to take his part in what is going on. It is too 
bad of him to sit like a stone watching us, at 


126 


THE HA VOC OF A SMILE. 


all events. If he cannot talk, he need not listen.” 

“ Listeners never hear any good of themselves 
neither,” cried she. “ So, my good air,” apostrophiz- 
ing the unconscious Heath, “ if you can hear so far 
— which I doubt in all this uproar — you might not 
like it. No, he does not hear us, Mr. Pomfret, he 
could not look so absolutely unconscious if he did. 
No, his thoughts are far away — far away,” sentimen- 
tally, “and ” 

“ He is speaking to her now, however,” said 
Gregory, suddenly. 

All the time he had been chattering gayly he had 
never withdrawn his entire attention from the one 
absorbing point of interest. The two quiet figures 
opposite, so obviously tinconcerned about making 
the hour pass agreeably to each other, were a ravish- 
ing vision to his sight. It appeared as though Major 
Heath and Miss Andover alike actually preferred 
the society of the person on the other hand when 
disposed for conversation ; and at length it seemed 
so unnatural that they should address each other at 
all that it was almost with a start that the watcher 
opposite exclaimed, referring to Beatrice’s partner, 
“ He is speaking to her now.” 

The curious thing was that Beatrice seemed to 
start also. 

It was, however, but a mere isolated remark which 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 127 

passed : a word in her ear, no more. It must have 
been his, Gregory’s own, absurdly suspicious fancy 
which painted her brow and cheek crimson for the 
next few minutes after it had been spoken. 


128 


THE HA Vf^C OF A SMILE, 


CHAPTER XVL 

“COME, THIS LOOKS LIKE BUSINESS.” 

“Even poor Gregory came out quite wonder- 
fully.” 

Mrs. Pomfret was referring to her party of the 
previous evening, and her air of complacency showed 
that the subject was a pleasant one. 

“ And looked well too,” observed Caroline. “ For 
a wonder his tie was respectably tied, and he had 
some color in his face. But I believe^ ” 

The door opened, and what the young lady believed 
did not appear, for it was Beatrice Andover who 
entered, and family topics had a knack of sliding 
out of sight in her presence. 

“ What are you going to do to-day, my dear ? ” 
Mrs. Pomfret leaned back upon her cushions lazily. 
“ It is going to be a very hot day ; indeed it is very 
hot already, I think. Will you drive with me, or 
ride with the girls ? ” 

“ I will drive with you, thanks ; that is,” and the 
speaker hesitated, “You meant in the morning, did 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


129 


you not? You meant before luncheon ? I fancy it 
will be the freshest time in the day then, and it is 
not eleven o’clock yet.” 

“ Shall we say half-past eleven ?” 

Half-past eleven was agreed upon, and the carriage 
was ordered. 

“ And what about the afternoon ? ” inquired Car- 
oline. “ Wynnie and I thought of looking in upon 
the Butlers’ bazaar, and going to Lady Carey’s tea 
afterwards. What do you think ? ” addressing her 
cousin. “ Oh, here is Wynnie,” as her sister entered. 
“ Is not that bazaar of the Butlers’ to-day, Wynnie ? 
And the Careys’ tea? I forget days of the month, 
but this is the fourteenth, is it not ? ” 

“ Right for once,” replied her sister. As for the 
bazaar, we had a sort of promise wrung out of us to 
go to it, — but if Beatrice does not like the idea, — ” 
and she paused for a reply. 

“ Oh, did you mean me to go ? ” Beatrice looked 
from one to the other. “ Oh, thank you, but I am 
afraid I — I can’t manage it. I am not very fond of 
bazaars, and I don’t know the Careys. Please do 
not trouble about me, either ot you. You know I 
can always amuse myself ; and this afternoon I — I” 
— she stopped in some confusion. 

The sisters glanced at each other. Gregory 

was written in both their faces. 

9 


130 


THE HA VOC OF A SMILE, 


“ It is either that, or that she does not choose to 
go with us to our places and friends,” said Caroline 
to herself, ‘‘I wish I knew which.” 

I suppose you are going to ride with Gregory ?” 
she laughed lightly. “Now, you dear, good Beatrice, 
3'ou are really too awfully good to him ; I know 
what you think, that we are a set of selfish creatures, 
and that ” 

“ Fie, Linney ! For shame ! Beatrice, don’t mind 
her. She is a silly chatterbox,” interposed Mrs. 
Pomf ret, comfortably. “You think nothing of the 
kind, my dear ; /know. And I am sure we are all 
of us grateful to you for being so kind to the poor 
fellow. For, to be sure, he has but a dull time of it ; 
only, you see, it is his father’s wish. Mr. Pomfret is 
so dreadfully afraid of pleasure interfering with 
duty — those are his own words — that he won’t have 
us think we are to take him about with us, and 
amuse him, as we used to do. Mr. Pomfret is very 
particular, when once he has made up his mind. 
Perhaps you did not quite understand that, m3' 
dear ? ” 

“ Oh, I think I understand,” but Beatrice hesi- 
tated. “ It was so natural for me to be the first to 
notice,” she murmured, “because, of course, outsiders 
do always see these things first. I mean that they 
are more likely to be struck by anything unusual. 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


131 


And Gregory looked so — desolate — ” then she broke 
off short, to the surprise of all, for she suddenly 
found she could say no more. 

She had come to have a curious feeling about 
Gregory. A sort of creeping fear, which yet had 
scarce formed itself into a real fear, would now and 
again make her pause before his name, and hesitate 
about announcing the little daily sacrifices she had 
begun by making so frankly in the sight of all. 

What if there should be any misinterpretation? 
Why did her hearers now glance at one another ? 

An awkward pause ensued. It is not exactly 
pleasant to be told that your son or your brother, 
living under your own roof, looks “ desolate and 
had it not been for the break in the speaker’s voice, 
and the mist in her eyes, both Mrs. Pomfret and her 
daughters would have flushed up at the remark ; but 
as it was, they only, as Beatrice perceived, took mute 
counsel from each other’s countenances. 

“ Poor fellow,” murmured the mother, at last. In 
her heart she was saying, “ come, this looks like 
business, indeed. Perhaps the girls will believe me 
another time.” 

Even Caroline was staggered. “ Can she be such 
a fool ? ” was her internal comment. Winifred alone 
remained coldly neutral ; she would not even commit 
herself to an opinion in her own mind. 


132 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


“ Sisters grow accustomed to their brothers’ looks,” 
pursued Beatrice, with an obvious endeavor to treat 
the subject easily, “you must not think for a mo- 
ment, dear Wynnie and Linny, that I imagined — I 
mean that I blamed — that is to say,” truth and po- 
liteness desperately struggling for the mastery, “ that 

it was not perfectly natural ” 

“Beatrice, Beatrice, say no more.” Linny had 
recovered her wits, and resolved upon her line of 
action. “Beatrice, my dear cousin, do not perjure 
yourself for such a trifle. Reserve your powers for 
deeper necessity,” laughing. “ We all know exactly 
how you feel, and what you think, and,” here the 
speaker looked around, as though to call attention to 
her forthcoming words, “ and I, for one, have come 
to a resolution on the point. I am about to reform,” 
with mock solemnity. “I will take up Gregory, 
when you desert him. I will be to him as a Beatrice. 
He shall look upon me as he now does upon you. 
Wynnie here,” waving her hand in the direction of 
her sister, Wynnie disapproves of the arrangement ; 
I can tell it by her grim demeanor. On principle, 
she avoids Gregory, and maintains that he ought to 
be avoided. She has papa’s warnings ringing in lier 
ears. But I, my dear cousin, I am converted by 
you. 1 will take my young fledgling of a brother 
under my wing when once you have dropped him ; 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


133 


and when your star has set upon his horizon forever 
he will find that nevertheless his heavens are not a 
blank.” 

Beatrice tried to laugh. It was a failure. 

By five o’clock in the afternoon, the Pomfrets’ 
house was nearly always quiet. Shortly before that 
hour the ladies would have roused themselves from 
the afternoon siesta, changed their dresses, and 
sallied forth again, not to re-appear until the sun 
had declined low in the west ; when they would hurry 
home from divers points of the compass, all more or 
less late, and more or less put out at being so. 

“We never do give ourselves proper time to dress,” 
Linny would now and then exclaim, but no one 
thought of altering their ways, nevertheless. 

Beatrice Andover watching the carriage roll away 
from the door — the sisters had accepted seats as far 
as the hall in which the bazaar was being held — drew 
a breath of relief. She was alone. The house was 
her own. They were gone, and they would not come 
back again, till — till what? 


134 


THE HA VOC OF A SMILE, 


CHAPTER XVII. 

GREGORY BUYS A BOUQUET. 

“ All right, I want to go home early myself,” said 
Mr. Gregory Pom fret. 

A young clerk had asked leave to go off soon, on 
the plea of illness, and the request had been met by 
the above. 

It struck the recipient as being a somewhat curious 
rejoinder, for Mr. Gregory did not look in any way 
unwell or out of sorts. On the contrary, he was 
bustling along, as though enjoying his work, and life 
generally; and he had just been heard to issue an 
order in a loud, brisk tone, which seemed incom- 
patible with so much as a finger-ache. 

No sooner had five o’clock struck, nevertheless, 
than the junior partner of the firm disappeared as 
though by magic ; and a few minutes afterwards 
might have been seen with his face turned westward 
behind the swiftly-trotting horse of a hansom, which 
he had hailed with eager and vociferous demand. 


tbe havoc of a smile. 


m 


The direction given to the driver was not that of 
the house in Berkeley Square, however. Gregory 
had something else to do first. 

He had first to go to Covent Garden, and select 
a bouquet. 

He had never bought a bouquet before, and at 
another time would have found the ordeal of doing 
so a formidable one. 

But what barriers will not love leap? 

Here was this youth, who knew not where to go, 
nor what to say, nor how much to give, nor anything 
about the purchase, in fact, running straight into 
the net of the fowler, and caring no whit whether he 
blundered, or squandered, or what not, so long as he 
got what he had come for, a bouquet for his Beatrice. 

He had asked her on the previous evening why she 
wore no flowers? Were not flowers being worn ? 
Did she not care to have them. 

She had answered jestingly, that none had been 
given her. She had had her own reasons for thus 
replying; but naturally these had not been under- 
stood by Gregory. He had rejoiced in the hint, and 
the light syllables had tingled in his ears throughout 
all the da}^ which followed. 

Thus, Covent Garden, .before Berkeley Square, 
presently. 

The bouquet was all that he could have desired. 


136 


THE HAVOC OE A SMILE. 


when at length a choice had been made among so 
many riches : it was fragrant, luscious. (Gregory, it 
must be confessed, liked luscious scents.) It was per- 
fectly fresh, although it had been in the market since 
the early morning, and it looked as though it would 
last well. 

He was quite satisfied with his bargain. 

The only thing he had now to fear was meeting his 
father in the neighborhood of St. James’, or his 
mother and sisters elsewhere. 

True, he never had met them when returning at 
this hour ; and there seemed every sort of chance 
that he never would ; but — ah ! — a familiar vision 
skimmed past, or he skimmed past it, at the very 
moment when thus cogitating ; and he had scarce 
time to realize his danger, ere it was over. 

“ Well missed ! ” he almost cried aloud. It seemed 
to him the very best of jokes. 

“ She was not in it ; I am sure she would not be 
in it,” he went on to himself. “ I knew she would 
stop in for me to-day. She was so awfully kind, and 
— and friendly last night. It might have been rough 
on Heath, supposing Heath had cared about it. He 
owed me one, though, for giving me the fright he did 
when he first came in. If it had not been for that 
giiTs letting out about his engagement, I should have 
had a nice time of it. A fellow like that ” but 


THE HA VOC OF A SMILE. 


137 


at this point the hansom stopped, and it behooved its 
occupant to be on the alert. 

Gregory jumped out, glancing swiftly round as he 
did so, and paid the man over-fare, in order to ensure 
his speedy departure. Then he pulled out his latch- 
key, and let himself in, devoutly hoping that no 
men-servants were about. 

A large bouquet is a thing which cannot be hid ; 
and he should have had to brazen it out, whoever he 
came across, — but he did not wish to come across 
even a footman. 

Fortune favored him ; and not a soul was to be 
seen. 

He ran quickly upstairs ; and paused outside the 
large drawing-room door. Should he go in at once ? 
Should he begin with gay unconcern to explain the 
presence of 'his floral offering; to make out that his 
cousin had insinuated neglect ; that he had endeav- 
ored to atone for a past sin of omission ; in fine, to 
play the part of easy indifference combined with 
gallantry ? 

This was the rdle he had been preparing for him- 
self in the cab. 

It seemed a simple one, and all having, so far, 
gone well, he thought, he really thouglit he could 
carry it through to the end. 

But what if he had a smut on his face ? or a soiled 


138 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


collar ? He had been driving, and been to the mar- 
ket, and the day was hot ; he might have contracted 
some disfigurement ; he would have a look in the 
glass first, — and he turned away to steal to his room. 

A second thought, however, stayed his steps. 

What absurdity to be troubled about such a trifle ? 
Had not Beatrice seen him come from the city often 
enough ? Had she ever told him, or looked as if she 
thought he was “an object?” Was she a woman to 
turn from a man because of a speck of this, or that ? 

Moreover, if his cousin were waiting in for him, she 
might as easily as not have seen him arrive, have heard 
the hansom draw up, and the front door open, and 
known it was he, by reason that it had opened with- 
out a summons of the bell? In that case, she would 
wonder what had become of him ? Possibly, even, 
she might feel affronted by his dilatoriness? Might 
leave the house in the interim ? 

These reflections swiftly chasing each other through 
his brain in that momentary pause upon the staircase, 
he turned, and with quickened breath approached 
anew the large folding-doors of the drawing-room. 

He thought he heard something move below, 
could it be a servant now ascending ? Could it be 
his father? 

Another movement. Without allowing himself 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE, 139 

time for further deliberation, he seized the handle of 
the door. 

It moved noiselessly open. Such doors always do 
move noiselessly. The more ponderous they are, the 
more lightly do they swing back upon their well- 
oiled hinges. 

Gregory, standing in the archway, beheld a sight 
which he knew he was never to forget for the 
remainder of his life. That sight was his beautiful 
cousin in the embrace of a stranger, — no, it was no 
stranger, it was Major Charles Heath whose arm 
encircled the form of Beatrice Andover. 

One glance told Gregory all. 

He did not move, nor exclaim, nor make a noise of 
any kind : he simply stood still where he was ; his 
leaden feet cleaving to the ground beneath ; his hot 
hands clutching the sweet-scented bouquet; his eye- 
balls bursting. For nearly a minute he thus stood : 
lie was unaware of its length. 

Then a murmuring sound fell upon his ear, a hand 
— the hand of Beatrice, was raised and laid upon the 
other’s shoulder, there was the echo of a faint sob, — 
and the beholder awoke from his trance. 

He turned, sought for the door handle, failed to 
find it, and stumbled. 

The next instant he had shut the heavy portal 
with a bang, and burst away. 


140 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


The flowers fell at his feet — he seized them some- 
how — anyhow. He got upstairs somehow — anyhow. 
He thought he met someone — but was not sure. He 
fancied a voice called him, — but perhaps none did. 

Was it his own room he entered? He supposed it 
was. Did the worthless blossoms encumber his feet 
a second time ? They seemed to do so. 

He was not certain about anything. Nothing was 
clear. 

What was he doing up there ? What had he seen ? 
Where had he been ? 

What was the meaning of it all ? 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


141 


CHAPTER XYIII. 

“ YOU WILL INTRODUCE ME TO MAJOR HEATH.” 

At last, — though Gregory never knew what length 
of time that “ at last ” bounded, — ^he was startled 
by a light tap at the door. 

He could not recollect anyone’s ever having tapped 
at his door before, and even to the bitterness of this 
bitter hour that trifle could add its sting. 

Could they not let him alone for once ? Might not 
he, who was never summoned, never sought after, 
never needed by anyone, have been left unmolested 
now ? It seemed the least that could have been 
done for him, and yet here he was being tapped for, 
as though on purpose to — his eye fell upon the 
bouquet, now to his view a ghastly object, and he 
kicked it sullenly under the bed, before he went to 
the door. 

At the door, however, his face changed. 

There stood Beatrice, with traces of tears upon her 
cheeks, but with a radiance on her face, with a 
tremulous, anxious smile upon her lips — Oh, God! 


142 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


that smile, more toiicTiing now than in all its first 
eloquence ! — and with a hand that sought his own, 
and held it. 

“ Gregory,” she wliispered. 

A groan he could not smother escaped his lips. 

“ Gregory, may I — will you let me speak ? ” 

He bent his head. 

“I have something to say, something to explain,” 
proceeded Beatrice in the same soft undertone. 
“ Come outside for a moment, will you, Gregory ? I 
know you will hear me, and will not judge me. I — 
oh, Gregory, don’t look at me like that,” suddenly 
aware of more than she had hitherto perceived. 
“ Oh, what have I done ? What is it, Gregory ? 
What ? Why — I only meant to tell you about — about 
myself and Major Heath, — about our — about us . — 
Don’t you understand, Gregory? You came in just 
now, — I knew it was you when I heard the door 
shut, and I was so afraid of — of what you would 
think, that I wanted to rush after you aud tell you 
all, — but Charley,” she stopped to blush, and steal 
a glance, “ he is ‘ Charley ’ now, don’t you see, 
Gregory ? He — I--we mistook each other once, and 
people made mischief between us, and told falsehoods, 
and we both believed them, — at least I don’t think I 
did, for I always felt it would come right, and would 
never give up hope ; but Charley could not feel it 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


143 


SO — men are different, you know, — and so he went 
away, and I came here. It was just before I came 
here that he went away ” 

“ They said he was engaged ” muttered Gregory. 
He spoke like a man in a dream. 

“ Oh, no, we were never engaged,” replied his cou- 
sin, in some surprise. “ Who told yon so ? I never 
thought that anyone in this house had heard about 
it at all. W e only understood each other ; and — and 
Charley would have spoken — he tells me now he was 
on the very point of speaking — when that came. It 
was a shameful report,” indignation rising — “ making 
him out to be a fortune hunter, or something ot the 
kind. Gregory, dear, am I a woman that a man 
must needs marry for a fortune ? ” And the violet 
eyes were lifted to his in added appeal for the inevi- 
table rejoinder. 

It was the only flash of coquetry Beatrice had ever 
shown her mute worshipper. 

For reply he looked straight at her and drew a 
breath. “You are a woman,” he said, “ whom any 
man must needs marry penniless — if he could ; ” and 
a sort of shudder accompanied the words. 

This was too much. She knew she ought not to 
have provoked this. Her own happiness should not 
thus have tripped her up. 

A shadow fell between them. 


144 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


It was broken by the bass voice. “ You asked for 
Major Heath to be invited here last night ? ” he in- 
quired. 

“i asked!” exclaimed Beatrice. Then she drew 
herself up, and regarded him with a look of pride. 
“ No, indeed. Would 1 have asked ? ” 

“ There would have been no harm if you had.” 

“ There sir, I differ from you,” but in another 
instant she was all gentleness again. 

“ Wh}", Gregory, I thought you knew me better. I 
thought I might have trusted you. And, oh, Gregory 
dear,” and again a hand lay upon his arm, “ I have been 
so uneasy, so anxious — did you not see how uneasy 
and anxious I was I Often I thought you wondered 
at it ; we were so much together, and seemed to know 
each other so well. When I heard that your mother 
had invited Charley, and that Charley had brought 
the invitation on himself — that was what Wynnie let 
fall — I scarcely knew how to hide what I felt. Did 
you not notice us at dinner? We dared not speak 
to each other at all.” 

“You did speak,” said Gregory, “ once.” 

“ Yes, once, and this was what he said. That he 
was coming to-day, that I must see him. That I 
‘must ’see him. You see he left me no choice,” 
with a glad intonation betokening acknowledgment 
of welcome authority. “ Now, you know all, say 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


145 


that you — ” and she twitched his fingers caressingly, 
and looked a dozen pleadings in his face. 

“ Say that I what? ” retorted he, with gruff direct- 
ness. 

“ That you — ^you did not think it strange that I — 
that we — what you saw just now,” murmured 
Beatrice shamefaced and shy. “ You know, 
Gregory.” 

Even now she had no idea of the pain she was 
inflicting. 

“Oh, of course” — A short, harsh laugh — “of 
course, it’s all right, you know. Naturally a fellow 
is taken aback, not knowing anything. And — and 
as you say, being such friends, we — but I ought not 
to say ‘ we,’ — I am a blundering fool, — I say, Beatrice, 
this — this — gentleman ” 

“Yes? This gentleman?” for he had stopped 
abruptly. 

“ Is he still here ? ” demanded Gregory. 

“ He is downstairs in the drawing-room. I left 
him there. He said he would wait. I could not be 
happy till I had explained to you.’ 

“ Oh ! ” Then the young man moved apace forward. 
“If you please, we will go down to him,” he said, 
“ You will introduce me to Major Heath. As there 
is no other member of the family at home it devolves 
on me to congratulate him. I kiapw what I ought to 


146 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


do, and — and you need not be afraid that I cannot do 
it.” He pushed past, and began to descend the stair- 
case in front of her. 

She had no option left but to follow. 

She wondered what was coming. 

He had said she need not be afraid, but she was 
afraid — she was more, she was abashed and alarmed. 
Check him she durst not. Suggest that there was 
no occasion for this forthcoming ceremonial ? Not 
she. No power on earth would have stopped him, 
that she saw. He was beyond argument or control. 

Could this be Gregory ? 

He who was so minutely scrupulous in matters of 
etiquette, to have thrust her rudely aside on the land- 
ing above, and to be now marching on, leaving her to 
follow after, as best she might ? He, who had never 
uttered an impatient nor an imperative word, to 
have spoken to her in tones before which she had 
quailed ! 

What did he want with Major Heath ? And what 
would Major Heath think of him ? 

He did not even pause at flie drawing-room door. 
Without looking round, he stalked straight in. 

“ Major Heath,” said a bold voice, at the sound of 
which Beatrice started and trembled, “ Major Heath, 
you are going to marry the girl I love, the girl I 
thought loved me — I give you joy, — I — ^you ” As 


THE HA VOG OF A SMILE. 


147 


they stared at him, with shocked and terrified eyes, 
they beheld him reel, totter, rock to and fro for a 
moment, and then fall straight upon his face, sense- 
less, on the floor. 


148 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

MAJOR heath’s verdict. 

After all, what right had the boy to make such 
an ugly scene ? What had Beatrice done that she 
should be thus put to the blush before her true and 
rightful lover ? 

Nothing very bad, surely — only made a mistake 
— but then it was a mistake which caused a great 
deal of sorrow, and some heart-burning. Only done 
what thousands of tender-hearted maidens would 
have done in her place, — but which nevertheless 
tender-hearted maidens had better be warned against 
doing, by her example. It does not answer for beau- 
tiful creatures, with brows of pearl and lips of roses, 
to shed too freely the light of these charms, even when 
led to do so by the purest compassion, upon mournful, 
heavy-hearted, isolated youth of the other sex. 

Beatrice Andover had no vanity, but she had a 
good deal of pride. Pride in the case of Gregory 
Poinfret had whispered, “ It is impossible that a strip- 
ling like that can misinterpret any of your, a grown 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


149 


woman’s gracious attentions.” Pride had moreover 
urged, “ Let your womanly pity have full vent. It 
is something to be able to sway a household as you 
are doing, and compel them to amend their misdeeds. 
You will have accomplished for Gregory more than 
he will ever divine. You by your unaided prowess 
have effected what no one else could have even at- 
tempted.” 

She had listened to Pride. Had Vanity spoken, 
it had been safer to have hearkened. 

What was now to be done ? 

Gregory had fallen with a shock that resounded 
through the room, and now lay absolutely motionless 
between the lovers. 

“ Good Heavens ! Help me, Beatrice,” said Major 
Heath, attempting to lift the prostrate figure. - 

But her help was of no avail. 

“We must ring for assistance,” said he, instantly. 
“ This is not a mere faint — it is a sort of fit. I have 
seen them before. Do not be alarmed, dear Beatrice,” 
taking her hand in his, and ringing the bell at the 
same time. “ Tins poor young fellow has been over- 
working himself, I should say. See how thin he is. 
I noticed him last night. He wants care and change ; 
but he will be well looked after. Ah, here is some 
one,” as assistance was quickly rendered. 

When Gregory came to himself he was lying on 


150 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


his own bed, being tended by faces he knew, and 
soon after by the family physician. He never recol- 
lected anything of what had happened after a certain 
point in the afternoon, while up to that point only 
vague visions floated before his eyes. He had a dim 
idea of having gone through some strange, dreadful 
experience ; of having witnessed a hideous sight ; of 
talking with Beatrice outside his own door, and of 
unavailing efforts to get rid of a large bouquet of 
hot-house flowers, to which somehow or other he had 
become attached. 

The phantasm of this bouquet troubled him more 
than anything else. He durst not inquire after it, nor 
suggest where it might be found. Yet as his brain 
cleared he was sure it was beneath the bed, and that 
conviction was terrible to him. On the day upon 
which he discovered that it was not there — it had 
been previously removed by a deeply marvelling 
housemaid, — he was almost happy. He fancied he 
must have dreamed the whole. He had never brought 
a bouquet home, had never talked to Beatrice, had 
never seen her and Major Heath — but here again 
his mind would begin to wander. 

“ Did you hear what he said? ” 

The lovers were alone, and they had been talking 
of Gregory who was now considered out of danger. 
It was the first time Beatrice had put this question, 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


151 


yet it had been never absent from her thoughts. Had 
Major Heath heard, as she had heard, the shrill sylla- 
bles which had sent such a stab to her heart, on that 
memorable occasion ? If so, had he regarded them 
as the mere outcome of a mind overwrought and off 
its balance, or had he guessed the truth? 

He had not told her. He had never reverted to 
the subject. She was obliged to recur to it of her- 
self. 

“ Did you hear what he said ? I mean that day ? 
Charley, you know when. Just before he fell down 
— when he saw you, and walked up to you — did you 
hear what he said about — about me ? ” At the last 
words she hung her head. 

“ I heard — yes.” 

“ And — did you believe ? ” 

“ I was bound to believe, Beatrice.” 

“ You think I have been — ” she paused, and with 
an effort added — “ flirting with poor Gregory ? ” 

“ I think nothing of the kind.” He looked upon 
her with a proud, fond gaze. 

“ What then, Charley ? ” 

“ I think, dear, you have been — kind.” 

“ I meant to be.” 

“And you thought you had a mere lad to deal 
with.” 


“ I did ; indeed I did.” 


152 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


“And so you smiled upon him.” 

“Oh, Charley!” 

“ And you have no idea what a beautiful smile you 
have got ! ” 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


153 


CHAPTER XX. 

HER WHITE VEIL CAUGHT IN THE HINGE. 

All the Pomfret family went to Beatrice Ando- 
ver’s wedding, and there was not a whisper in the 
household, outwardly at least, that the recent illness 
of the poor invalid, who was by this time able to be 
downstairs, and to drive out daily, and was about to 
start for a year’s travel ere he resumed work, had 
anything whatever to do with that family event. 

The two principally concerned maintained silence 
in perfect unison. 

Gregory himself never mentioned the subject. 
The servants knew nothing beyond having been 
summoned in haste by Major Heath and Miss An- 
dover, and finding their young master in a fainting 
fit upon the floor. 

This was all that rose to the surface of discretion. 
Of course curious tongues had striven to elicit 
more. 

“ I suppose poor Gregory came in rather mal d 
propos^ and found you two having your little expla- 
nation ? ” Caroline had put forth. “ Was he muchly 


154 


THE HA VOC OF A SMILE. 


taken aback?” Liniiy affected such words as 
“muchly.” “Horrified at himself? Of course it 
had nothing whatever to do with that — his fainting, 
I mean — Dr. Williams says he must have been run- 
ning down, ‘ getting himself into condition ’ for this 
attack, as he called it, for some time ; but, I daresay, 
the astonishment of finding you and Major Heath in 
confab — ?” and she laughed interrogatively. 

“ As it happened, I had heard him come in, and 
went to fetch him,” replied Beatrice, as steadily as 
she could. “ I told him about — about us, and he at 
once asked to go in and congratulate Charley.” 

“ Oh, he did that, did he ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ It was very unlike him,” said Caroline, looking 
keenly at her cousin. “ I wonder what could have 
made Gregory act so unlike himself. Beatrice,” she 
added, after a moment’s pause. 

Beatrice, who had turned away, looked around. 

“ I think I know the truth,” said Linny, in rather 
a low voice, “ and — and I wish to say that it was not 
your fault.” 

It was now the other’s turn to lower her tone. 

“ You forgive me, then ? ” 

“ I forgive you, — that is, there is nothing for which 
you need to be forgiven. But,” said Linny, with a 
look of disgust, “ I cannot forgive him. To make 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 155 

such an exhibition of himself ! To make a scene be- 
fore Major Heath ! To — do you know what the maids 
took away from his room, when he was delirious ? ” 

“ No.” 

“A bouquet of orchids. A rare bouquet that must 
have cost guineas. Beatrice, whom do you think 
those orchids were for ? ” 

Beatrice was silent. 

“ You know they were for you, and the whole 
house knows they were for you. Is that nothing to 
be ashamed of, vexed about ? ” 

“ With me ? Yes,” said Beatrice, miserably. 

“Withyow.^ No. With Am. With his presump- 
tion, his impertinent folly ” 

“ Caroline ! ” 

“ I say it is so,” said Caroline, loudly. “ Gregory 
has made fools of us all. Servants will tattle. All 
that has happened and a great deal that has not 
happened has got out by this time, you may be very 
sure, among other servants, and from them, among 
our friends and acquaintances. It will be said that 
we ,'" — she stopped and bit her lip. 

“Surely no one can accuse you of anything ?” 

But here Beatrice also came to a sudden halt ; she 
knew that people were already accusing in the very 
fashion she longed to deprecate. 

“ Yes, I see that you understand, ” said Caroline 


156 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


bitterly, “ and that it is so. Gregory has brought 
this upon us. Don’t you think we feel grateful to 
him ? ” 

“I think you are very cruel to him, ” said Beatrice 
warmly. “ I think — oh, had I a brother like that, how 
differently would I treat him ! Had you, Linny, and 
Wynnie, been like sisters, — what sisters sliould be 
loving, gentle, sympathetic, forbearing towards poor 
Gregory, he would never have thought of me. He 
would have been happy and satisfied and boyish. As 
it was, he was old before his time. He — but there is 
time yet. Won’t you just try ? Won’t you begin ? 
When he comes back, and takes up his home life again, 
let it be different from what it has been. You might 

be so much to him ” 

can’t.” 

“ You do not love him, do not care for him?” 

“ I cannot forgive him.” 

“ Because of this ? ” 

“ Because of everything. Altogether he is out of 
place among us. He cannot be happy with us. He 
looks reprovingly at us. He is not one of us.” 

“ Yet you seemed to get on together well enough 
when I first came. I do not mean that you had 
much to do with each other, but you seemed to be 
quite good friends when you did meet.” 

“When you first came ? Yes. But since then 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


157 


Gregory has changed altogether. Formerly he used 
to hold his tongue if he did not agree with anyone, 
and at least refrain from being disagreeable. Now 
he sets forth his opinions: he ‘thinks’ this, and 
is ‘ sure ’ of that. He thinks we ought to ‘ live 
more at home/ to ‘hang more together/ to do some 
good in the world, ’ to ‘ try to make each other and 
all sorts of other people happy ’ — oh you should have 
heard him sometimes when you were not by. And of 
course we all knew what it meant. You don’t sup- 
pose we are going to stand any more of that ? To 
be lectured by Grregory ! ” 

What more could be said ? 

“ I have not only done him harm in himself, but 
I have injured him with all the rest,” quoth Bea- 
rice sorrowfully to herself. “Oh, why could I not 
have let this poor Gregory alone ? ” 

The wedding day was bright with sunshine. A 
gay and brilliant assemblage gathered to see the mar- 
riage rites performed : the organ pealed a joyous strain 
as the bridegroom led forth his bride, and a murmur 
of admiration ran through the thronging crowd out- 
side, at sight of the handsome pair. 

“A bonnier couple ne’er were tied together ! ” quoth 
one old dame with a northern accent. She was start- 
led by a long drawn breath, a bursting sigh, close 
behind her. 


158 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


In the rabble of the street — in the hot, dusty sun^ 
light — in, rough loose clothes — with his pale face 
strained and drawn — with his sunken eyes dilated — 
stood one whom Beatrice Heath would scarcel}^ have 
cared to see there. 

Happily for her she did not perceive him. 

She passed ; he almost touched her ; the carriage 
door shut ; he fell back among the gazers ; — it was all 
over. 

Not quite, however. 

The bride leaned forward; her white veil had 
caught in the hinge of the door. 

Striving t*o disentangle it, she turned round her 
beautiful face, and through the open window Gregory 
saw her smile. It was that smile which caused the 
smothered sob to burst from between his quivering 
lips. 


W-B HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


159 


CHAPTER XXL 

CONCLUSION. 

Seven years now passed away. 

How much may happen in seven years I 

People marry, die, disappear, reappear, are rich, 
poor, happy, miserable, and happy again, have 
time to be everything and to do anything in seven 
years. 

The teetotum of fate can have a right merry spin, 
and bring out all the figures wrong side upmost 
ere the seventh year closes. 

And thus with the dramatis jpersonce of our little 
story. Scarce any of them came out of that 
whirligig exactly as they went in. It wrought 
changes — some greater, some lesser, but changes still 
—on all. It left its special mark upon Gregory 
Pomfret. 

It was a bright April evening, exactly such another 
April evening as that on which we first beheld 
Gregory, that we are now to have another peep of 
him ere we say “ farewell,’’ 


160 


THE HA VOC OF A SMILE. 


He was expected to dine with some friends, — ^he 
and someone else, who was his inseparable companion 
during the hours not devoted to Mark Lane. For 
Gregory still went as of old, morning by morning to 
Mark Lane, (indeed he had very good reasons for 
going, for he was now head of the firm, and a highly 
important and influential personage) — and he still 
found his way westward, back to his old home, duly 
every afternoon. 

The home, moreover, was still the old house in 
Berkeley Square ; but though the same, in so far as 
bricks and mortar were concerned, it was no longer the 
cheerless, forbidding mansion, through whose portals 
he had been wont to glide uncared for, and unheeded 
by all seven years before. 

Now — but Gregory will tell what takes place now, 
for himself. 

“ There they are ; ” exclaimed a childish voice, be- 
longing to a small creature who was peeping through 
the stone pillars of a London balcony. “ There they 
are, and what pretty horses ! Oh, and wliat a pretty 
lady ! Oh, mamma, may we see the pretty lady ! ” 
running inside. 

Inside the host and hostess awaited their guests. 

“ How do you feel, Beatrice?” whispered Colonel 
Charles Heath, with a little smile, confidential and 
significant. 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


161 


“ I wish it were over,” whispered slie, back. 

“ The children say she is pretty. Did you not say 
she was pretty, Molly ? ” turning to the little one. 
But the door opened, and Molly had no need to 
answer. 

It opened to admit a lovely girl in all the bloom of 
twenty summers, with a fair, open countenance, 
beaming eyes, and lips that parted ere they spoke. 

She looked too happy to be shy, too confident of 
affection and welcome to be timid. 

“ Oh, how glad I am,” cried Beatrice Heath to her- 
self, with a great rebound of joy and relief at the 
sight. 

She had heard of Gregory’s marriage, and report 
had spoken of a charming bride ; but in these matters 
there is no satisfying a woman till she has seen for 
herself. 

Now it needed but a glance — nay, two glances, one 
at the bright young wife lierself, and another at the 
husband who proudly stood by her side — to set at rest 
every misgiving. 

Who was this before her ? This straight, stalwart, 
upright figure, broad-shouldered, deep-chested? She 
called to mind the Gregory of old. Yes, of course, 
he had always been fairly tall, and by no means in- 
significant in person, — but he had been so thin, so 
poor looking, so meagre — if such a term may be used 


162 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


— that he had lost all the value of his height and 
breadth. 

Then he had held>himself badly, had never seemed 
sure of his footing, invariably had looked as though 
he had no business to be where he was. 

Now he carried his head high, and faced the world 
without a tremor. His features, although not strictly 
speaking, handsomely shaped and regular, had im- 
proved. It suited him to look older, stiffer in mould ; 
to be no longer smooth-cheeked and apt to blush. 

“ He has a fine, serious face ; he has color, expres- 
sion, intelligence ; he is a man any woman might be 
proud of,’^ inwardly cried Beatrice again, and again 
she added, “ Oh, how glad I am ! ” 

At last the havoc she had wrought was repaired ; 
at last she could think of poor Gregory Pomfret 
without a twinge at her heart. He was well, pros- 
perous, happy. He was master in his own house. 
The death of his father, and the residence abroad of 
the other members of his family had been no loss to 
him. 

He had the world at his feet, and something better 
than anything the world could give, beside his 
hearth. 

“We are to be alone,” said Colonel Heath, pres- 
ently. “ Beatrice told you so, I hope ? Yes, she 
did? We agreed that we would not have any 


THE HA VOC OF A SMILE. 


163 


strangers present at this first meeting. By-and-by we 
sliall send you cards for something more formidable. 
Do you like society, Mrs. Pomfret ? ” giving her his 
arm, as dinner was announced. 

“ Oh, yes.” A bright, cheerful response ; an “ Oh, 
yes ” that came readily, as though acquiescence were 
familiar to the rosy lips. 

“ And your husband likes it too ? ” 

“ Oh, yes. Why, of course, if he did not, /should 
not,” simply, as though stating a mere fact. ‘‘ But 
we both like home better, you know,” added the 
speaker, with a confident assurance of sympathy. 

“ She’ll do,” said he to himself. 

Presently Beatrice and her former lover found 
themselves alone upon the balcony. 

Colonel Heath had taken Mrs. Pomfret off to see 
some curiosities. The children had gone to bed. 

Twilight reigned outside ; indeed it was nearly 
dark in spite of a young moon overhead, and had the 
night not been so warm and balmy every one ought 
to have been within doors. 

As it was, Beatrice made amove, but, rather to her 
surprise, her companion laid a detaining hand upon 
her arm. 

“ May we stay out here just for a few minutes?” 
said he. ‘‘ There is something I want to say to you, 
Beatrice ; and it is easier here, in the dusk — do you 


164 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


remember our talks in the dusk on the balcony in 
Berkeley Square ? ” 

“ Yes.” She could think of nothing to say but 
“ yes.” Beatrice was not a quick woman, and to 
confess the truth, her heart was beating a little un- 
easily under this turn of events. She rather wished 
her husband had not carried off the bride. She had 
not meant to be left alone with the bridegroom. If 
so left there might arise an awkwardness which 
neither would know how to bridge over. And now 
here was the person whom she had fancied would 
as carefully avoid a solitude a deux as herself, 
absolutely invoking it ! 

She wondered what was coming. 

“ How kind, how good you were to me,” pursued 
Gregory, in a musing tone, as she re-seated herself, 
and he stood by, leaning against a pillar, and look- 
ing down upon her. “ I repaid you badly ; but — 
no, it was not my fault. I could not have helped 
it — no man could have helped it. I was dazzled, 
blinded. And it was no wonder — who would not 
have been ? But this is not what I wanted to say, 
my dear cousin,” turning towards her more briskly, 
“ I did not detain you to listen to any apolo- 
gies for the past, but to tell you a little about the 
present, — to tell you something that I know you 
will care to hear. My wife,” he paused, and his face 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


165 


glowed at the words. “ My wife — ” he repeated, and 
for a moment could proceed no further. 

“ Yes, your wife,” repeated Beatrice, joyoush . 
“how delightful it sounds! Your wife! And I 
can see all that she is, all that she must be to 3^ou ; 
one has but to look at her dear face — and Gregory, 
how lovely it is ! — to know that she is good. How 
beautiful her expression — her sweet voice — oh, Greg- 
ory, I am so pleased, so rejoiced, — I am ready to 
listen to anything, Gregory ; and only longing to 
hear. Do go on — what about your wife ? ” 

“ She is all, everything that you say,” rejoined he, 
deeply gratified, “ she is good, she is sweet, she is as 
beautiful as she looks. You know what married life 
may be, Beatrice,” he continued earnestly. “ I have 
watched you, though you little thought it, with 
jealous, unsparing eyes, all through these years that 
have passed, since last we met ; and I have only seen 
you grow more and more content in your husband’s 
love, more and more satisfied with his companionship, 
more and more happy in your home. I did not grudge 
you your happiness, — but I envied it. I would not 
come to your house, but I stood afar off, and knew and 
marked all that passed here. Believe me, I was true 
to you, Beatrice ; I tried to take comfort in your 
prosperity ; I would not have lessened it by a hair’s- 
breadth, only — only, I wondered whether any bright- 


166 


THE HAVOC OF A SMILE. 


ness would ever again enter into my life — that was all. 
And now,” a thrill of triumph again ringing tlirough 
his tone, “ now the question has been answered. I, 
too, have won my prize. When first I knew Grace I 
said to myself, that for the first time in all these years, 
I saw someone — do not be angiy with me, Beatrice — 
worthy to be your successor in my heart. You may 
guess what a thrill of fear shot tlirough me at the 
thought. I had suffered — ” he broke off short. 

“ Oh, Gregory ! ” She turned away her head. 

“ Out of my suffering I had learned so much,” he 
murmured, “ I had learned all that a woman might 
be, could be, ought to be. You had taught me such 
lessons ” 

“ — Oh, 7, Gregory ? ” 

“ Yes, you, Beatrice, who else? You know how 
you found me. You know that neither my mother nor 
sisters — but we will not speak of them. It was to 
you and to you alone, that I owed it that no sense- 
less, heartless girls of fashion had power to touch 
my heart, to deceive me to my misery and theirs. 
My wealth would have been my only attraction in their 
eyes, but — I suppose it would have been one,” memory 
evidently at work. “You know I am a rich man. 
Beatrice ; ” proceeded the speaker, after a moment’s 
pause “and of course the world knows that also. 
The world always knows such things. 


TB^ HAVOC OF A SMILF. 


167 


“ People who would not have stepped across the 
street to shake hands with me in my father’s lifetime, 
when it was hardly known that I existed, certainly 
not how I miglit be left under his will, were ready to 
crowd round me, directly it was found that he 
had died wealthier than had been expected, and that 
the firm under my management was more flourishing 
than it had ever been. There is no false shame about 
Mark Lane in Berkeley Square nowadays, Beatrice,” 
joyfully. “ Grace drives down to meet me, and trots 
me home straight from the door sometimes. Almost 
always she meets me somewhere. She has a nice little 
pair of ponies and drives herself. And we ride in the 
evenings in the old way. And she is down at break- 
fast — I don’t breakfast quite so early — but still it is 
early for a London woman, — but she says she does not 
mind that — and — and we are both so happy. I 
could not help wishing to tell you,” he added, with 
shining eyes. “ I owe it all to you. The thought 
of you ” 

“ Of me ? Oh, Gregory, and I — I have never 
dared to think of you.” 

He looked round, surprised. 

“I felt that I had done so much harm. That 
where I had thought I could do only good, I had 
done all manner of ill. I had made mischief. I had 
stirred up strife. I had blundered so stupidly, so 


168 the havoc of A SMILE. 

cruelly — it had been nothing but a dreadful, wicked 
blunder all through,” and Beatrice put up a hand to 
hide her burning cheek. “You do not know how I 
hated myself, ” she continued. Even now I can 
scarcely believe that I — that you — that it has not 
been as I thought. I meant well; I did indeed, 
Gregory ; — indeed — indeed I did mean well,” with 
increased earnestness, “ but no one could say I did 
not act, or at least seem to act badly. Oh, I could 
never, never bear to think of it. And yet I know I 
only meant to do good,” she repeated, and her lip 
shook. 

“ Dear cousin,” said Gregory, very softly, “ don’t 
you think that sometimes — perhaps — the good that 
we try to do and seem to fail in is taken out of our 
hands, to be done for us by a stronger hand? Done 
in a different way — by different means, — done per^ 
haps out of sight, and, to our humility, not to be rec- 
ognized as our handiwork at all ? But still it is ours ; 
it begun in us, and through us. Nay, say what you 
will, Beatrice, and he leaned towards her in the fad- 
ing light, “Beatrice, your hand opened to me the 
gates of my present Paradise ; those of my wife,’’ the 
murmur just reached her ear in the still night air, 
“ shall lead me to the Paradise above.” 


THE END. 


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